Through the Eyes of Another
by Lillianpost
Summary: Thorin decides it's time for Kili to follow Fili's example and take a wife, so he chooses a princess from the Grey Mountains for his sister-son. He doesn't know though that she's blind and that her father threatened her to hide her disability or else. Four years after BOFA. Kili/OC/Thorin
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my latest experiment: the first-person story. I hope you enjoy!**

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**Chapter 1**

I said I wouldn't do it. No doubt mother will back him up though. What nerve he had to march into my chambers as pleased as a pig with a personal food trough to tell me he'd finally found me a husband! Ha! As if gangs of them wander lost in the woods waiting to be rescued. As if I were looking? No, he sold me in exchange for a new trade route. Now thanks to him, pack horses will drop piles of dung in my honor all the way to Erebor and back. A lovely tribute if I do say so myself.

"This must and will be," he said. "We've fallen on hard times."

I told him the _only_ reason why we _fell_ on hard times was because he bankrupted us trying to restore his kingdom to a glory it never deserved in the first place. We didn't fall. We were thrown. By him. I called the Grey Mountains home, but that wouldn't impress anyone else coming to visit. Father tried his darndest to gussy up the place, but there only so much one could do with rather lumpy hills, rather nice forests, and rather ordinary fields. There were several very pleasant streams though and a particularly fine tree in the middle of the green, but no one would or even should come miles to watch my favorite tree turn orange in the fall. I adored my home though, and every peak, crag, and cranny was precious.

"Fallen implies an unavoidable accident," I reminded him, "but this is nothing of the kind. You leapt into this against all advice, so don't you _dare_ make me pay for your mistake!"

I wanted to say _incompetence_ instead of _mistake_, but I thought if I did, he might hit me. He never had before, but I knew I pushed him to his limits at times. I didn't know why. Maybe because I never liked him, or maybe because he never liked _me. _

"You _will_ do this," he said a half-step lower than a shriek. "You _will_ serve some purpose at last!"

He stomped out then, making sure his heels and toes landed at the same time, and slammed the door. I waited until his parade of one faded away and fumbled to pull out a satchel from under my bed.

"No, Areen," came a soft voice at the door, "you can't run away this time."

My mother, tall and lovely, glided to my bed as though on wheels. When I was young, I peeked under her skirts and was disappointed to find normal feet. I still didn't know how she did it.

"This is an unexpected but most welcome stroke of fate, don't you think?" she asked as though the answer was obvious.

"No, I don't, mother," I said, knowing full well father didn't tell King Thorin and his sister-son, Prince Kili, the truth about me. "What will they say when they see me? They'll turn us away in disgrace, and what then? Why can't father take someone else and say it's me? Anyone else would be thrilled."

I felt down my legs, one of which was shorter than the other. We didn't talk about my _other_ disability. Most of the time, they pretended it didn't exist. Nice for them. Nice and convenient. Not so nice nor at all convenient for me.

"That can be overcome, my dear," she said gently. "You have a good and kind heart, and King Thorin was quite firm about it being the princess of the ruling house. He may ask questions only you can answer."

I puffed my chest out and put my hands on my hips in imitation of street-walkers I had heard tell of some time ago. I thought at first the label applied to those tasked with keeping streets clean. Was I ever wrong!

"So Princess Areen," I said, trying to imitate King Thorin's deep voice, "what is the annual income of your kingdom?"

Mother huffed, but I paid no attention. I deserved that chance to blow off some steam, and I had enough to power a turbine. I briefly imagined my mouth around a tube that sent steam to the main furnace of the mountain keep. I was angry enough to keep my people warm all winter long.

"Why nothing, Your Most Royal Highness Majesty," I replied sweetly, "but if I walk the streets tonight with a few of my friends, we might double the treasury by dawn."

"Areen!" mother said. "You will keep a civil tongue in your head!"

I pressed my lips together and clamped my jaw shut to keep everything I really wanted to say from leaping out of my mouth and setting my bedroom on fire. Then the cries of my people rang in my head. I limped to the closet and pulled out a few dresses and my cane. I laid them on the bed and fumbled around to empty my drawers. Mother made surprised noises while I packed as best I could in silence. I took a few precious mementos off my shelf and wrapped them carefully in frilly drawers I despised and never wore.

"What are you doing?" mother asked.

"Packing obviously," I said, "because there will be nothing but misery here if I refuse, and I won't hear my people's groans and have them starve if I can help it."

I felt mother's smile behind my back.

"As I said, a good and kind heart."

I snorted. Nothing like a little flattery to sweeten a very sour deal, but all the same, I knew she was sincere. She always was.

"One that you and father are taking full advantage of."

I turned around and tried to face her. My mouth felt tight, and I knew I had no right to be insolent, but I didn't care. I'd been pushed too far, and I wasn't going alone.

"I'm taking her with me."

"Of course," mother said. "Of course she goes with you. You do so well here, but, of course, you'll need her to help you get around Erebor."

I bit my lip. My effort at bravado was overwhelmed by descriptions of Erebor's size and complexity. I didn't know how I could manage.

"I hear it's very large with many winding halls and corridors."

For the first time, I heard mother's voice thicken with tears.

"You'll manage brilliantly, as you always do, my brave, brave girl."

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**Hope you like, and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all your encouragement! These chapters will be somewhat shorter than in my other stories until more action takes place and I figure out how to combine two points of view, but I'm having fun so far.**

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**Chapter 2: Seeing the Truth**

I didn't sleep well and had my nightmare, the one that always comes when I'm angry or upset. I have it often, and it always starts the same. It's a beautiful day and the sun is shining so brightly that it almost hurts my eyes. I'm playing with friends in the woods and practicing with my bow and blunted arrows. We shoot at leaves and shout that we hit _exactly_ the one we wanted among the thousands that blow gently in the breeze. Then rolling, black clouds cover the sun like a blanket. So much rain falls that it starts to wash away the outlines of the trees, the rocks, buildings, and people. The rain turns them into blurry smudges. I scream for help, but no one can hear me, and they turn and walk away. Groping through the blur, I find the wavy outline of my bedroom door and crawl on my bed. I find the edges of the sheets and pull them over me. I sleep badly until I wake up in the morning to remember once again that the blurry images are real and that only in my dreams can I see as I used to.

I groaned as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and reached for my cane, which is always on a hook by my bed. I hear the panting of my beloved dog and almost best friend in my now very small world.

"Will you please help me again, my friend?" I asked, hearing by the ever-present thump of her tail that she was waiting for me to wake up. I think it only right to ask her every day just the same. I don't want to _assume_ that she wants to lead me about all day long. Perhaps she'd rather chase after bones or dig holes somewhere in the fields beyond our keep. It's only after that dreadful fever struck our people when I was nine years old, leaving too many dead and me almost blind that the niceties became more important to me. Not that they shouldn't always have been, but the able-bodied seemed to overlook them in their self-reliance. Not me. I depend on people's goodwill now more than I ever wanted to, and I hate making them work even harder for my sake.

I also learned the hard way that people are only willing to give so much before they grumble and complain. However, an added measure of gratitude might stretch their compassion a bit further. I was also determined to do as much as I could for myself despite father's efforts. Always looking for an angle, he wanted our people to feel sorry for me. Perhaps then they'd think better of him. It's too sick to even laugh at and became this horrible game we played. He undermined every effort I made to be independent, and I did my best to make him look like a fool. My favorite time was when he cried tears that I'd never be able to walk. I think he wiped his handkerchief on an onion first, but I limped to my seat in front of that assembly with my head held high. Unfortunately, he found a way to save the situation. I should have known.

"My poor, poor child," he said, like I was spared by the mercy of Arda for some greater purpose. "Look how she struggles yet ever with a smile. We should all follow her noble example."

Aye, follow it and not complain when he raised their taxes to dig a mine that yielded nothing but low-grade pyrite ore. His own surveyors told him nothing was there, but he saw a glint of something and wouldn't be dissuaded. Many went hungry that winter. I tried to make light of it, but he didn't laugh when I said he was a fool for gold. I suppose my timing might have been off.

But now he has his revenge, and I'm being packed off like a sack of wheat to be the wife of some prince I'd never seen, but like all dwarves, had heard much of. The quest to reclaim Erebor has taken on a luster with embellishments bordering on the ridiculous. Personally, I thought that the dwarves who refused to go were the smart ones. Who needed Erebor when Ered Luin was doing so nicely? I went there once when I was six, and it was just beautiful, nestled in the softly rolling hills of the Blue Mountains. However, the Durins were known to be a rather dramatic bunch, so they just _had_ to face a dragon as if the occasional pack of warg riders wasn't enough.

I dressed quickly in a simple gown since we weren't leaving until tomorrow. I needed to say goodbye to the few friends who stood by me since that horrible time, and try to see my home as best I was able for the last time. I wanted to cry and felt the tears pricking my eyes, but I forced them back. There was no point in crying when it would only blind me completely. I want to see it as clearly as I can before I leave it forever.

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**Please review and send your thoughts and suggestions.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for your support new friends and old! **

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**Chapter 3**

Meals with my family were always strained. The silence was thick with unsaid words like black smoke billowing out of a furnace. One honest sentence could choke us. Father usually said nothing, just grunting when he approved of the food. Sometimes he'd ask my brother about his weapons training or his instruction in our various dyes and their properties. We were famous for producing quality fabric dyes and herbs, so our mountain home always looked and smelled wonderful.

I was grateful I could see for some of my childhood, but when the fever left it took most of my sight as well. Outside in the brightest sunlight I can see vivid colors and vague shapes, but in low light I'm completely blind. Inside the keep mother kept my bedroom as brightly lit as she could, but the rest was shadows in the gloom. Still, I'm grateful to have any sight at all. Imagine never seeing the color red? Or yellow? How then could one explain what color the sky is or the changing colors of the seasons? How would one describe the play of light on color? Not to mention what people and animals and _life_ looked like. Our dyes are the most beautiful reds and blues and dark purples imaginable. Our green is that deep, emerald-green, but with a little yellow it looks like spring came early. Our pinks make the dawn blush with shame. All are color-fast and unfading. Who cares about shiny baubles after seeing great sails of richly colored cloth blowing from the thick branches of oak trees?

It was a wonderland to me, and I was always excited to see the dyers at work. The memory is as clear as ever, and I relive it often. I need my memories, maybe more than most. They made life bearable when people treated me like I was deaf as well as blind. They said that my dying would have been better. I never thought so. I guess they meant well, with them clucking their tongues and all, but somehow it sounded different when father said it. Then I heard a noise.

I raised my head in surprise after father said something to me. No one moved.

"Pardon, sir?" I asked.

He smirked. I didn't need to see it to know he did.

"I said that King Thorin expects a _normal_ girl, so for Mahal's sake do your best to look the part."

I was sure that mother put her hand on his arm because she inhaled when he shook it off. My brother kept eating. We weren't close, he and I, not by a long stretch.

"A _normal_ girl?" I asked. I tried to ignore him, but I was mad and, honestly, hurt, and that made me madder. Father had despised me for years, but somehow his contempt still stung. I should have been thicker-skinned by now, but I wasn't. What's worse is that he knew it. I didn't know how but, by Mahal, he knew.

"Pray what _exactly_ did you tell King Thorin, father, because they'll see me clearly enough when we arrive?"

He chuckled, and I knew then I was in trouble. I twisted the napkin on my lap as tightly as I could.

"I had a special saddle made for you, so that when we ride up, you'll be seated like a proper lady on a proper horse and not riding bareback on that ludicrous pony."

"Father …"

"And you'll have a new dress to hide your … _deformity_."

"Is that all?" I asked, I dropped the napkin—I think it fell to the floor—and clutched my hands in front of me. He chuckled under his breath. I held mine.

"Of course, your_ mongrel _won't go with you. Instead, I've arranged for two maids to go with us. You'll pretend that you twisted your ankle and be helped to your guest chambers. After all, your health is so _delicate._ After King Thorin and I sign the agreement, it won't matter what you _are_."

I wanted to shout, "So what am I?" I was still me, but all he saw was what I was missing. To him I was unnatural, and I needed to _pretend_ to be someone and something else. "What you _are," _he said_._ I hadn't eaten anything, but I was full of his hateful words. All the things I knew he wanted me to say crowded behind my lips, but I swallowed them back. He was _not_ going to win this one. It was too important to me. I couldn't leave without those I depended on—my dog, Sky, and my pony, Summer.

"Well, father," I said, "there's _some_ sense in what you say," and I tapped my finger against my mouth, "but I don't think King Thorin will view your deception kindly. In fact, he may even consider it an insult to his honor."

Father blustered and huffed. He was sorely disappointed that the knife didn't stick in deeper, but I knew he had to consider what I said. I wanted to scream at him but instead flattered his ego. It took everything I had to do it.

"Besides, our dyes and herbs are the finest there are, and King Thorin will sign the trade agreement anyway, and"—and I said the one thing he had always wanted to hear from me—"it'll be to your advantage for him to feel sorry for me."

There, I said it. I took the dagger out of his hand and plunged it into my own heart. I could tell by the purr in his voice that he was more than pleased. He was always looking for some way to shame me for surviving, especially since I survived so well. He took it as an insult to his loins that he sired so weak a creature as to be born lame and then go blind. One time, a loyal, family servant pointed out that I must be strong indeed to have survived the fever when so many others died. He was cast into the street without back pay.

"Yes, yes," he said, no doubt grinning widely at his victory, "your poor, unfortunate state might work in our favor after all."

I waited as I always did—I don't know why because it never happened—for mother to cry in outrage at his heartless comments. Never, not once, did she stand up for me. I did't know what was worse, a cruel father or a weak mother. I stood as regally as I could and asked to take my leave. My father snapped his fingers for servants to attend me. Sky wasn't allowed at the table. Of _course_, she wasn't. Otherwise, I could get around the obstacle course he set for me without help. He often rearranged furniture just to make it hard.

"Mind she doesn't fall or bump into something and hurt her pretty face," he said with smug satisfaction. "You know how _helpless_ and _weak_ she is."

It took all I had to limp away and not bash him over the head with my cane.

"Come away, Lady Areen," said old Borin, who knew me when I was whole in a different way, "and don't mind him. We all think the world of you, and we know what your father is."

For once, I let him put his arms around my shoulders and lead me away. I hated myself for giving in but I was too afraid to travel without my guide dog and pony. Without them I'd be truly blind, and he knew it. Damn him!

"They're going to pity me or treat me like a freak," I whispered. "I'd rather they hate me as an equal."

Borin tightened his grip on my shoulders. I could feel his gnarled fingers lightly squeezing and patting.

"No, my lady, if they can look past what little you lack, they'll see all you have to give."

I could feel them, but he ignored the tears trickling down my cheeks.

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**OK, folks, what do you think? Works, doesn't work? I wanted to portray what disabled people can often feel as well as the cruelty parents can inflict when disappointed by their children-even if the reason isn't their fault. So let me know your thoughts, and please review! On a personal note, I had some something similar happen once after facial surgery where some pitied me and others hid their children's faces from me. A family member suggested hiding myself until I was healed. Instead, I walked out with a friend into a shopping center covered in bandages and watched people gasp, turn away, or stare. A real learning experience...**


	4. Chapter 4

**This is getting interesting. Do I do past tense, present tense? So much to learn, but it's fun. I hope you all are staying with it. As always suggestions are welcome. **

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**Chapter 4**

After such a humiliation, I couldn't wait to go outside. I harnessed Sky, and she led me out the gates of my mountain home to the market down in the valley. I felt the warm sun on my face and enjoyed the crunch of dirt and rocks under my boots after I left the granite-paved roadway from the gate. I heard the sounds of life all around me from birds singing to attract a mate to the skitter of animals foraging for nuts and acorns in the trees and on the forest floor.

"How're ya doing, girl? Tired of being cooped up in the mountain?"

Sky seemed as excited as me to leave the keep. Inside it seemed like the mountain itself was pressing down on us, trying to squeeze us out like pastry from a tube. Perhaps it was because there was so much unhappiness there that the healthy, old mountain wanted to spew us out. Mother doesn't like me to talk this way, but it's true. I reached the outskirts of the market where men, dwarves, and a few elves came to spent their coin—hopefully. We put out our best effort and made like we were carefree with wealth to spare. It wasn't good business to look poor.

Everyone had hidden their fear under bright banners that I could dimly make out and stalls full of food—some their last bakings of bread and last kegs of ale. However, this time, relief had come. King Thorin paid a generous amount for our sample shipment of goods, but Lord Torfrin, father's steward, told him that King Thorin had in fact paid _less_. Our nobles in charge of the treasury were _terrible _at accounting in the best sense. I didn't know how long they'd been diverting funds to feed and clothe our people, but as soon as I found out, I begged to help. We came up with a system that worked well for everyone. Well, everyone except father, but no one felt any guilt on his behalf. We just made sure that he was satisfied with having more than anyone else. He just never realized how _much_ more he could have had. I called those who signed on the Secret Servants, and Lord Torfrin made us all swear to keep our secret unto death. They were my true family. Council members quietly slipped me a pouch filled with gold coins at the market when they made their farewells. I sighed happily and hugged them all. Then I took a deep breath.

It's said that when one sense fails, the others rally around their fallen comrade. That was certainly true of me. Ever since my sight faltered, my senses of smell, hearing, taste, and touch became much more sensitive, and things I took for granted became essential.

Take air, for example. Most people walk through it without thinking, but not me. Instead, it's another ally in helping me navigate my world. I always thank it because it sends me the most delicious scents and interesting sounds. Sometimes the smells are so thick I can almost taste them. Of course, that's not handy when I'm around the stables, but it's quite nice otherwise.

As always, the market smelled wonderful with scents of exotic spices that grow in abundance in our woods and meadows and on the sides of the mountains at Ered Mithrin. We might not be miners with precious gems—whatever mines there used to be were already played out—but King Thorin had plenty of those anyway. What he wanted instead was a steady supply of high-quality medicinal herbs and savory spices as well as our incomparable dyes. So he'll get those and me in the bargain to seal the agreement. Just what every girl dreams of.

With Sky's help, I moved easily around the stalls, and my good friend, Sella, beckoned me over to sample another one of her experiments. She's a wonderful baker as long as she uses a recipe, but she's determined to distinguish herself with something unique. Feverishly working at all hours, she'd been testing strange concoctions for years. Unfortunately, her taste buds gave up under the strain a long time ago. I smelled the very unpleasant combination of raspberries and onions and stifled a gag.

"What do you think, Areen?" she asked. Even though I was a princess, I couldn't bear to have my friends use the title. Too much separated me from them already.

I sampled a morsel, already sure it was going to be terrible.

"Raspberries and onion, don't mix," I said. I didn't need to see her face to know she was disappointed. "Try raspberries with lemon, and onions with sage."

Her breath made an eager sound. Then she sighed.

"But who will help me when you're gone? I haven't found my secret recipe yet."

I fished in my velvet bag and pulled out a long list. I wasn't about to leave her in the lurch because father had practically banished me.

"What's this?" she asked.

I could hear from the little pops her lips made while she read that she was excited. Suddenly, she hugged me.

"Oh, Areen," she cried against my cheek, "thank you! I was so worried I'd never remember them all."

I had a scribe write down as many flavor combinations as I could come up with. Some were rather exotic, but perhaps one would be her secret recipe. She's wanted that ever since she learned how to use a rolling pin.

"You deserve it, Sella," I said. "You're my friend. I … wish I didn't have to go."

She put my hand on her face and smiled widely.

"We're going to keep in touch with you somehow, Areen. We won't abandon you."

I was so surprised that tears sprang into my eyes before I could stop them.

"Thank you, Sella," I blubbered. "That means the world to me." She patted my shoulder, and we hugged again. I pressed two gold coins in her hand, and she slipped them into her pocket. We said nothing lest one of father's guards take notice, but she squeezed my hand to show her gratitude.

"All will be well," she whispered. "You'll see." Then she gave me an apple tart spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg.

"I'll miss these."

"What? Did I add too much nutmeg?"

As hard as I try to keep up a front to father, I couldn't be anything but honest with my friends.

"The Durins scare me," I muttered, "and I don't know what to do. What if they reject me? Where could I go? I heard father say that he's leaving me there whether they want me or not."

She huffed, and I could tell by the way she slammed her platters down as she rearranged them in her stall that she was angry.

"Like I said Areen, we have a plan. Arse of a lord, your father is, and we all think so. Not that your blockhead of a brother is any better."

I looked around. Even I could spy the bright red robes of father's guards. They were loyal to him because he paid them. I never had much patience for court intrigue, but we couldn't get away from it. Most of the lords and council members tried to make up for father's incompetence—and that was putting it nicely—while the warriors and guards on his payroll tried to find us out. It was a dangerous game but worth playing to keep our people together and fed.

"Hush, Sella! I don't want to get you in trouble."

"As if we don't know how much all of you do for us!" she replied with a harsh whisper. "The Durins may be scary, but I hear they take good care of their people. Maybe if you become one of them, you can do the same for us. Then no one will have to take these risks."

That thought hadn't occurred to me, and I straightened up.

"I'll get them to accept me, I swear. Then I can send all the aid you need."

"You'll swear what?" I heard a voice say behind me. The lovely scents of pine, cinnamon, and sweet pipeweed flooded my nose, but before I could turn around, two pairs of arms grabbed me.

"Oh, Areen! I can't believe today is your last day with us! I'm _so_ mad at your father!"

My friend Mebla hugged me around the waist from behind while her twin brother Tildar had me by my shoulders.

"Give her air to breathe, you two!" came a deeper voice, filled with amusement.

"Feron!"

He stepped forward to muss my hair. Two years older than the rest of us, he and his brother and sister were the children of a beloved noble named Lord Vinn. A kinder heart never lived.

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye!" he said good-naturedly.

The three of them were my closest friends since we were small, and my going blind didn't change a thing. Before I lost my sight, we used to hide dung under pine needles for father's guards to step in and do other things that naturally curious and bored children were wont to do. We were as thick as thieves, and that was apt since they were also Secret Servants.

"Did you hand out all of yours?" I asked. They hummed their answers. I added more into their pouches since I was sure that father's guards were watching me more closely today.

"I already got mine," Sella said.

No one said anything then, but I could tell something was going on.

"What?" I asked peevishly. I never liked being left out.

"Come with me," Feron said, and he led me away. I felt the crackle of the dried pine needles underfoot and the scent of both young and old trees. I heard the creak of the branches in the slight breeze.

"Why did you bring me to the woods?"

He sighed and put his hands on my shoulders. Sky sat on her haunches. She was skittish with most, but my friends had her complete trust.

"Areen, we've been together for almost all our lives," he said, "and we pledged long ago that we'd take care of each other no matter what happened."

"We were children then," I interrupted.

He gave me a little shake.

"Areen," he said more firmly, "I asked and father gave me his blessing to marry you if you wish and take you away to our kin in the Iron Hills. Mebla and Tildar would come with us. We're all agreed. We can leave tonight if you wish. Father has everything ready."

I knew they had a plan, but I never expected this.

"Feron," I said, "you can't be serious! I can't expect you all to leave everything behind for _me._"

He said nothing, but I felt his demeanor change. It got softer somehow, and the grip of his hands lessened, his fingers almost caressing my shoulders. Then I felt his thumb gently brush my lips.

"I won't stand by and watch you be sold off."

I reached up, and he put my hand on his face.

"But, Feron, we're not lovers. We don't love each other _that_ way, and …"

Suddenly, I felt his lips on mine. They were warm and comforting.

"We could be, Areen," he whispered as he put his forehead to mine. "It wouldn't take much for me to feel that for you."

He held me in his arms, and I had to admit it felt nice. But then I remembered Sella's words, and I gently pushed away.

"Sella told me that if I became a Durin I could send aid to our people. They need that more than I need to get away. Feron, what if Mahal arranged this to save us?"

He snorted angrily.

"I don't think _anyone_, even our Creator, expects you to sell yourself!"

"But so many put their lives in danger to help our people. What if all that could stop? What if I could send aid without father's leave? We could all be free!"

I looked up, and his thumb and forefinger caressed my chin.

"I understand your reasoning," he said softly, "and I'll let you go on one condition. If the agreement's signed, I will come with the first shipment. That should be about two months after you arrive. If you're unhappy there, I'll steal you away, and we'll head for the Iron Hills. Then I'll send word, and the others will join us."

My thoughts were such a jumble, I didn't know what to think.

"Areen?" he asked softly. "I won't let you go without your promising me."

He cupped my face with his hands and kissed me again so tenderly that I wanted to cry. I had always admired him and even had a child's crush on him, but I didn't know what I felt now.

"I promise, Feron," I said at last. "I promise."

He pulled me to him and held me close. I remembered him as a light-hearted dwarfling with bright, red hair and light green eyes, but that was years ago, and the dwarf who held me now felt nothing like the soft and chubby child leading us through mud puddles.

"It will be well, Areen," he said. "If you find happiness there, I'll be satisfied, but if not, you know my mind."

We walked back out of the woods to find Lord Vinn and the twins waiting for us.

"You told her?" he asked.

"Aye, but she's going to Erebor first."

Lord Vinn took my hand between his own.

"You're like another daughter to me, lass, and I'll have your reasons before you refuse Feron."

He lowered his voice because a gaggle of father's guards walked by mumbling about rooting out traitors.

"If the Durins accept me, uncle, I can see to our people's needs for as long as I live, and we wouldn't have to hide anymore. One day one of us _will_ get caught, and you know what'll happen then."

He sighed and stroked his by-now white beard.

"Aye, lass, I honor your reasons, but I agree with Feron that we won't allow you to be mistreated. I don't care if High and Mighty Thorin Oakenshield himself comes here. We won't let him keep you unless we were sure you'd be happy with him and his kin. They're rich, to be sure, but that's nothing without love and respect."

My friends all "ayed" loudly, and I reached out to touch their faces. I felt tears on Mebla's cheeks, and a frown on Tildar's. Both Uncle Vinn and Feron kissed my hand. Feron's kiss lingered.

"What goes on here?"

One of father's fellow gluttons joined our little gathering. Lord Riven was roundly disliked, almost as much as father, and that was saying something. Besides, his breath was always terrible.

"I'm just saying my good byes, my lord," I said sadly. The others said nothing.

He took my arm a little too tightly, and Sky growled. I thought I heard one from Feron as well.

"You father wants you back in the keep. You've much to do to get ready."

The others protested, but I waved them back.

"Aye," I replied. "I have to prepare for them."

Uncle Vinn snorted.

"No, lass," he said with a conviction that surprised me, "they have to prepare for _you_."

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**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you all for your lovely responses and encouragement! Tables are turning, and things aren't what they seem, so read on and please review!**

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**Chapter 5**

I returned to the mountain in a much different mood than I left. I didn't even get a chance to say good-bye to others whom I might never see again, and I was angry. Mother met me at the gate and _suggested_ that we finish packing and get my supplies ready. I thought I already packed all I had, but she insisted that there was more, and walked with me to my room. Then she dismissed the servants and closed the door.

"Sit down, Areen," she said in that gentle way of hers that sometimes grated on my nerves.

"Mother, I really think .…"

"I _said_ sit _down._"

Her words had a bite. She had never, and I mean _never,_ talked like that before. I obeyed reflexively.

"We need to talk before you leave," she said, her tone completely different from her normal self. It was both stern and strong. Even when I could see, her face was always soft and serene—almost dim at times in my opinion. Now I imagined her face sharp and more intelligent than I had ever guessed. I was completely taken aback and could only sit up straight and put my hands in my lap.

"There are a few things you need to know before you leave, my daughter," she said, "and now is the time to tell you. I'm extremely proud of your generous nature and how you've persevered, but you still have much to learn to be a princess of the realm—any realm."

I opened my mouth to speak, but she made a noise, and I promptly clapped it shut.

"The first thing you need to learn is how to judge character and that people are shades of gray—not black and white as you see them. For example, who do you think it is who started the Secret Servants, as you so call us?"

A series of gags and stutters came out of my mouth before I finally stammered to a halt. A single sentence upended my entire world. I couldn't see her, but I was sure she was smiling to see my shock.

"How? How did you?"

She laughed quietly.

"Our realm may be new in comparison to others and small since we've only been here for a few generations, but I am queen nonetheless, and I will do my best to see to the needs of _my_ people."

I couldn't understand.

"But all those who went hungry, mother? All those petitions that went unanswered?"

She sighed sadly, and it sounded like the sigh of someone much older.

"I am queen, not king, and I did my best to help, but the needs were too great, so I slowly tested others in power until I could gather enough I trusted to help put my plans in place. You never knew to protect both of us."

I put my hands over my face. It was all too much.

"Why didn't you tell me? I kept everyone else's secret? Why not yours? It would have made all the difference!"

She hummed quietly.

"In our relationship you mean? Did I need to do great deeds for you to love and respect me? I loved _you_ when _you_ were weak and helpless. I also loved you when you were difficult to love. If you recall, you didn't handle your blindness so well at first, and I still bear scars from the glasses and plates you threw during your _frequent_ tantrums. I understood why, of course, and didn't fault you for it. You were hurting, and I understand suffering."

"But what about father and what he said to me? You didn't defend me once! Not _once!_"

She sat silently for a long while.

"Did you ever wonder why he never hit _you,_ Areen? You know he wanted to, didn't you?"

I didn't understand what she meant, and I stared blankly at her indistinct outline. Then I knew.

"Oh Mahal, mother! Oh, you didn't! Please tell me you didn't!"

I stood and reached out my hands for her. I couldn't stand to hear any more. She took me into her arms, and I sobbed my apologies until I felt my throat go dry. She rocked me slowly and stroked my hair. I never knew her until that moment. Her quietness and serenity hid a suffering that I couldn't begin to understand. She stood in front of me more times than I could count and diverted what should have come to me. I was bitterly ashamed for all the times I baited my father and gloried in his fury**,** never knowing he would take it out on her. At that moment, I hated myself.

"I thought myself so right to make him mad. I'll never forgive myself, never. How could he?"

She hushed me gently.

"I already have so you must. You didn't know, and as much as you misjudged me, you're right about your father."

"Was he always like he is now?"

"No," she said quietly. "He was intense and passionate but also full of hopes and dreams, much like you are now."

I almost gagged at the comparison. I felt sick, but I had to know what happened. She tried to tell me, but her voice choked, and I begged her to stop. I couldn't inflict any more pain on her, but she patted my hand.

"He had many troubles in his life and little by little lost faith, lost hope, and grew bitter and angry," she said softly. "He could have handled it differently, but our choices make or unmake our character. His choices made him who he is now. Among other things, he suffered, I lost many babes before your brother and you. He mourned every one. He cursed Mahal in his pain and hardened his heart. Even your births did little to sway him by that time, and we all paid the price. You must make different choices, Areen."

I shook my head angrily. If there was one thing I knew, I knew I was never, NEVER going to be like him.

"Don't be so sure," she replied after seeing my face. "He said the same thing about _his_ father."

My head dropped.

"I've been so blind." I didn't need to explain myself.

"Aye," she replied, "that's why we needed this talk."

I felt like I had aged a hundred years, but I sensed that mother felt invigorated to finally let go of the burden she'd carried so long. I knelt at her knees, bowed my head, and gave her the respect and honor she had always deserved.

"I know, sweetheart, I know" she said gently, "but I thank Mahal that we understand each other at last."

"What else is there, mother? I have so much to learn."

"And that is a lesson in itself. We live a dangerous life, Areen. Not only in body but also in spirit. We lie and cheat to meet the needs of our people. However, never forget that those who lie and deceive for good reasons can also do so for bad."

Suddenly, I was afraid.

"Do you suspect one of the Secret Servants?" I asked, not wanting to know that answer.

"No," she said, and she patted my drooping shoulders, "but it's an ever-present danger. Our motives aren't always pure, so we must always sift our hearts. I know you love our people, but wasn't some of your service to spite your father? Hmmm?"

She was right and didn't have to say so.

"We _must_ know ourselves. That's one reason why I'm happy you're going to Erebor."

Now _that_ I didn't understand.

"What has Erebor to do with this, mother? I should stay here and help. I'm needed here!"

She sat quietly, and I could tell that she was choosing her next words carefully.

"Erebor has what you need, Areen, or more to the point, Thorin Oakenshield has what you need."

"Mother, what, how could, he is a…?" I cast around for something to say, but nothing coherent came to mind.

"He's a king who fought gold sickness and won, Areen. He's faced greater losses than anyone could ever know and triumphed over them. You need to learn from him, sweetheart, you need to learn what he and his kin have learned."

That made no sense to me, and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"So does that mean I need to _marry_ Prince Kili to _learn_ this great lesson? Perhaps I should marry King Thorin instead!"

Mother didn't say anything, and into the silence entered all kinds of wild thoughts. Suddenly, I felt that there was much more going on and had been going on without my knowing it. My temper flared, but I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I was always one to speak my mind, but If lesson one was self-control, I might as well learn it now. I could tell by the pleased sound she made that she knew what I had done.

"Feron proposed, you know," I said. "He said he'd take me to the Iron Hills tonight. Did you know of this?"

Her sudden intake of breath told me otherwise.

"He's an honorable dwarf," she said slowly. "What did you say?"

I could tell that the answer was important to her.

"I said that I would go to Erebor first. He'll come with the first shipment should the agreement be signed, and if I'm unhappy there, he'll take me away with him to his kin."

"Does he love you, Areen? If he does there will be no other for him. You know that is the way of our kind."

I shook my head,

"No, he hasn't bonded himself to me yet, but he said that he would if I gave him the encouragement."

Then a thought came to me.

"It's also the way of our kind for dwarves to cherish and protect their women. How does that explain father?"

Her answer was simple.

"Even the strongest dwarrow can go mad."

Threads of random thoughts started weaving together, but they couldn't be right, they just couldn't be.

"Mother," I asked with great hesitation because I hoped with all my might I was wrong, "are you wanting me to go to Erebor so I can find a way to heal father? Is that what this is all about, that King Thorin will teach me how to help him? Surely, that's impossible!"

She said nothing, and I voiced another one of the thousand thoughts that swirled in my mind.

"Am I to marry Prince Kili so we can come here and rule? Is _that_ was this is about?"

She didn't answer.

"Mother, I need something! Give me something so that when I go there I'll know what to look for, what to do!"

She stepped forward and put her hands on my shoulders. I could tell by her grip that her next words would be important.

"King Thorin is a dwarf of honor. When you get there, remember what you told your father."

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**New layers that I hope will add to the story. Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's an interval chapter that prepares for her arrival. I thought I'd get her to Erebor in this chapter, but it turns out that she needed to find out a few things and get a few things off her chest first. Stubborn lass. Always telling me what to do! **

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**Chapter 6**

I got ready in a daze. Mother packed new gowns and other clothes, but I didn't care about style. What I care about is texture and fit. I hate stiff fabrics and tight clothes because I feel like I can't breathe. She said I looked best in jewel tones, but that doesn't matter to me since I don't know what I look like anymore. I know that the pimples of my youth are gone save a small pockmark or two on my chin. I also think I have a mole near the corner of my mouth since I feel a small bump there when I wash my face, but I'm not sure. My fingers are not as sensitive when I touch myself. Familiarity robs them of sensation I guess.

I also know that I'm not too short nor too tall judging from where I hear others' voices. Feron is taller than me, and so is mother, but I seem to fit in well enough with my friends. The only problem with having one leg shorter—other than the obvious—is that my body twists to accommodate the angle. By the end of the day, my muscles and joints ache. Sometimes the pain is so bad that I shake like a leaf in the wind. Mother usually gives me wine to ease the pain and then sends in a maid to work out the knots and cramps. I like red wine best.

I packed the last of my memories and tokens from friends. Feron gave me an engraved bracelet with a small heart-shaped bell that jingled softly. It was too rich a gift, but he insisted. I could smell that it was made of gold. Funny how metals have different smells just like they have different properties of other kinds. Copper smells tangy and iron earthy. Gold smells lightly fragrant. That must sound strange, but it's true. Perhaps everyone can smell metals but never try. I hadn't smelled gold in a long time.

Mother brought in a pouch.

"I can't take anything else, mother," I said after I felt the leather bag. "The pack ponies will fall over as it is."

"Just one more thing, sweetheart. You need to look like the princess you are."

I loosened the laces and reached in to feel mother's diamond and sapphire necklace and earrings. I knew their pattern by heart because when I was little, I used to sneak into her room and peek into her jewel box. They were the best of the few things she had from her family and were generations old. Once she let me wear the necklace, and I paraded around like a queen until father saw me. I ran crying back to mother's chambers and never wore it again. It was beautiful though with an elegance and symmetry that made it a piece of master craft. It had a chain of interlocking sapphires and diamonds leading to a small, diamond flower with a heart-shaped sapphire suspended below. The earrings were diamond flowers with sapphire centers.

"Mother, you can't!" I cried. "It's the only thing you have left that shows what you are!"

She took my hand, put it on her face, and shook her head.

"A piece of jewelry does not make a person, nor will this necklace make you. I have no need of it here, but it may help you at Erebor."

I was puzzled.

"What difference would a necklace make?" I asked.

She hummed.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Mother hugged and kissed me, and her tears wet my cheeks. Father introduced me to two gruff and unfriendly maids who were to attend me. The journey was perhaps a week, and I feared that I'd have no support at all. Father said he picked them for their reliability, but my clever mother told me that she had put them in his way.

"They will help you, Areen, as best they can," she whispered. "They may seem at times to follow your father's orders, but have no fear. They will protect you."

Summer seemed eager to go. I didn't ride her as often as I used to, and she'd grown fat. She knelt as she was trained to by Feron, and I easily found my way on. I rode bareback in a split skirt. Father grumbled once again about it being undignified, but he knew that I rode more safely when feeling Summer's movements. He said though that I had to use the saddle he packed for when we were close to Erebor. I imagined myself falling on my rump in front of King Thorin, but then I remembered that he wouldn't come out to see such undistinguished guests. So a guard will watch me land on my rear instead.

Sky whined in cart behind me until father grew so annoyed that he let her pad beside me. I already knew the trip was going to be horrible since we hadn't left the stables yet, and he was already yelling. I took a deep breath and bit my tongue. As we rode out on the warm, spring day, I heard the murmur of voices and the shifting of feet. The noise and vibrations grew louder, and I smelled the scents of the market.

"Best wishes, Princess Areen," Mebla and Tildar called out. "We'll miss you!" Shouts and farewells followed from market vendors and my true family. Their encouragement and love were heartening but heartbreaking at the same time. How was I to manage without them? Then a heard one voice lower than the others as I rode by.

"I'm coming soon, Areen. I'll be ready if you are."

I nodded with a tremulous smile, and we passed through the outer gate. Father rode ahead with his minister of state, a dwarf whose true allegiance was hidden. Mother told me as best she could who was trustworthy and who wasn't, but Lord Boron was an unknown.

"Be wary of him, Areen," she had said. "He reveals nothing and may be dangerous. He's cleverer than he lets on."

The sounds changed after we left the Grey Mountains and headed into the low foothills. No more voices save our own, and all sounds of civilization stopped. I felt so lonely. All I heard was the sound of wind in the trees, the cries of raptors after their prey, the plodding of the ponies, and the panting of Sky who trotted by my ankle.

I'd never been so far from home before, and I felt it like slender strings stretching. Each step, each bend and dip pulled them tighter. Would they break under the strain or would they yank me back to my family and friends?

I screwed my eyes shut against Feron's last tender request. Before we walked back to the others, he let me, no, asked me to "see" his face for the last time.

Even at close range, I can't make out features, but I can see through touch. I'd never done it with an acquaintance, let alone a stranger, but Feron took my hands and put them on his face.

"I want you to see me before you go, Areen," he said softly. "I want you to see who stands before you now. It's not only my voice that's changed, and I want you to take me seriously now."

I tried to pull away, but he held my hands to his face and nodded.

"Please," he said.

I slid my hands up to his hairline and felt thick, coarse hair like a horse's tail.

"What color is it now?"

"Dark red," he said. It used to be the color of carrots.

Then I felt his broad forehead and traced the few lines there. I touched and tapped my finger tips on his temples and ran my fingers lightly over his eyes. He sighed softly.

"Are they still green?"

"Aye," he said, "but now they're darker, more like malachite."

I felt his large, thick nose and flaring nostrils. He always did have a big nose, and that hadn't changed, but much else had. His face was harder, stronger, and I ran my fingers down his cheeks and met dimples. He had the face of a dwarrow, not the lad I remembered from just a few years ago.

"My, Feron," I said, "our womenfolk must swoon."

Then I thought of something I hadn't in many years.

"Do _I_ look so different now?"

I felt him grin and ran my hands over his beard. I had felt it when he kissed me, but it was fuller now and not the straggly, patchy beard I felt some years ago. I hesitated to touch his lips, but he brought one hand there and kissed each fingertip slowly. His mustache tickled.

"One word, Areen," he had said, "One word, and I'll let my heart run free."

I brought myself back and shook my head to still the thoughts that threatened to swallow me whole. It did no good to dwell on what had happened since what was to come was in front of me. I only hoped the Durins would be kind. For two months at least. Then I would have to decide.

Lord Boron and father talked at the head of the column about the trade agreement and how to best present me. If I were allowed to be myself, King Thorin might go easy on our people out of pity. Father favored that notion, of course. However, Lord Boron said instead that King Thorin might think us weak and drive a harder bargain. I stopped listening after an hour and tried to stem the tears running down my face. I didn't want to go to Erebor despite mother's words, and I already felt depressed after only half a day on the road. I tried to listen to the other dwarves, the soldiers and servants instead. They all talked about the wealth of Erebor and finally seeing it at last. I heard the awe in their voices as they speculated about the size and grandeur of it all. Their conversation didn't improve my mood.

"We have many more miles to travel, my lady," one of the maids whispered after she pulled her pony alongside mine, "pay no mind."

"Aye," whispered the other one, "Don't listen to their talk, my lady. We'll not abandon you."

I nodded wordlessly and decided to take in my surroundings. I saw smudges of green and a grayish pink haze. Shapes moved in front of me with a swaying rhythm. I smelled fresh pine and wildflowers growing along the trail. Then I heard a horse snort and smelled fresh dung. Thankfully, Summer sidestepped the pile I knew was there. I was going to smell dung all the way to Erebor like I predicted, although I didn't feel honored in the least.

Since I rode astride for most of the day, my pain wasn't so bad, and I was able to rest comfortably. Father brought feather beds for himself and Lord Boron, but I had to make do with straw stuffed into a sack. It worked well enough if a bit prickly. We ate cheese, bread, and fruit. One of the maids cooked some stew over the fire. The clatter of pewter plates and clank of mugs alerted me to supper. I heard Sky padding up, and I hugged her hard.

"Come here, Areen," father ordered. She led me over, and I curtsied clumsily.

"Just what I told you, Boron," he said angrily. "We must come up with a reason."

I felt Lord Boron's eyes on me, and they didn't feel like Feron's eyes. His eyes made me feel warm and safe, but Lord Boron's eyes were hard and assessing, and I felt like I had stepped into a cold wind.

"My lord," he said calmly, "there's only one thing to do, but it can't be done until we're close to Erebor, perhaps as we skirt around the mountain, since we're coming from the north. There are few sentries or guards there."

I wanted to ask what they were talking about, but I didn't dare. Something told me not to speak. Perhaps it was my maids subtly clearing their throats. Their breathing told me that they knew what my father and Lord Boron were referring to and that it wasn't good.

Father's decision made, he changed the subject and ate heartily. I could scarcely eat anything until he shoved a bowl into my hands.

"You must keep your figure to attract Prince Kili," he said. Some of his guards laughed lewdly, and I felt my cheeks flush. I knew that I was already plump from too much eating in the market place. Everyone wanted me to sample and test their goods, and who was I to refuse?

"What were they talking about?" I asked Kitra. The other one, her sister, was named Otha.

They didn't say anything, but I prodded. Otha took a deep breath and put her hand on my arm.

"Prepare yourself, my lady," she said. "They want your limp to look like an accident, so they're planning to sprain or break your ankle before we reach Erebor."

I gasped. Who wouldn't? It was too horrifying, but it made sense in a twisted sort of way.

"So they decided to pass me off as normal. What else? How are they going to account for my blindness?"

Kitra answered.

"Sky won't be allowed inside to lead you around. Instead, you'll probably be pushed by one of us in a wheeled chair, and we are to describe Erebor for you as we go so you can pretend you see it."

I scoffed and shook my head.

"Then they think the Durins are simple indeed. Surely they'll see through this. Mahal! I can't even look anyone in the eye!"

"You're going to be shy."

I dropped my head into my hands. This was preposterous, not to mention completely dishonorable. I wouldn't stand for it and told them so.

"My lady," Otha said sadly, "Sky and Summer will have their throats slit otherwise."

The look on my face told them everything I felt. I never was good at hiding anything, and now I had to hide everything.

"Oh!"

I burst into great, heaving sobs, but Kitra shook my arm.

"You mustn't act like you know, my lady! Remember, their lives depend on it."

Lord Boron suddenly called from across the campsite.

"Princess Areen, you are upset? May I know the cause?"

His voice was neutral, but I heard the steel behind it. If I could practice on Lord Boron, perhaps I could deceive the mighty Thorin Oakenshield. I felt bad about lying to him but no guilt whatsoever about Lord Boron.

"My apologies, my lord," I said while wiping my eyes, "but I was grieved over my maids' loss of their mother. I can't imagine losing mine in so short a time. They weren't even able to say good-bye."

A squeeze on my wrist told me that I was convincing. Father wouldn't stand for it.

"Do not distress her again," he commanded. "I'll not have her red-eyed and puffy when she meets the Durins. She's deformed enough as it is."

Another squeeze kept my temper in check, but I swore then that he'd pay for everything thing he'd put me and my people through to the last whimper of pain and hunger. Every last one.

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**Things are moving forward, and we'll see how well she does. In the meantime, please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you friends for your reviews, and welcome new readers! **

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**Chapter 7**

We traveled for some days before the terrain changed, and I smelled something foul and dank on the air. It smelled like an over-used latrine or a thousand babies having a go. Then again, it could just be that I was downwind from father and Lord Boron. But I was wrong. Otha told me that we were within stench of Mirkwood. I wondered why good smells dissipate quickly but a stink travels for miles. Any idea I had of the elves being a fair and pure race died on the spot. No nobility could live in a continual waft of decay. I no longer wondered why King Thranduil and his people didn't help the dwarves of Erebor. Maybe they couldn't extricate themselves from the sludge in time. I giggled a little at the thought. I imagined King Thanduil in all his blond glory wading through sewage to call his people to arms. That cheered me for a moment. Then my thoughts returned to my impending _accident._ It was hard for them not to. Each morning Otha and Kitra listened in and came back with a report. Each time they came back, I could breathe again. "Not today."

What's worse? Getting hurt or _knowing_ you're going to get hurt? Huh, maybe the worst is knowing that someone _wants_ to hurt you. I couldn't keep biting my nails to the quick while I waited until after they were done eavesdropping. No, I decided to take my ankle into my own hands. If anyone was to sprain it, it would be me.

"Where can we do this?" I asked my trusty maids with a confidence I certainly didn't feel. They were horrified, of course, but understood.

"There's a stand of trees coming up on the horizon," Otha said in a low voice. "Just behind is Erebor. I'm sure they'll try something there, so we need to be ready."

Kitra seconded. I couldn't hide my devastation at having to hurt myself to protect myself. Who should be in that position? Kitra and Otha murmured kind words, but they flicked away like pebbles kicked by our ponies' feet. Nothing they said could make up for what was coming. Soon enough we rode up the smudge.

"I see twisted tree roots," Kitra whispered. "I'm very sorry, my lady."

I dropped my head and took a deep breath.

"I'm ready."

Before Sky could reach me, Otha led me over the roots, and I stuck my boot under one and wrenched my ankle as hard as I could. Pain shot up my calf, and I screamed. Lord Boron came over immediately, but father lingered behind.

"What has happened, princess?" he asked with great, and I was sure, feigned concern.

He played the game well, pitching his voice at just the right tone and volume to play the warm and worried uncle figure, but I wasn't fooled. Voices have both overtones and undertones. Lord Boron had mastered the overtone, but I heard the calculation underneath. A blessing of blindness, and I honed it. I spent years learning how to read voices. I'm no expert, not at all, but he had spent too much time around father and had gotten lazy. Now Lord Vinn was a pleasure to listen to. His sincerity was true to the last bass note like a thick slice of toasted bread dripping with honey. I never tired of listening to him. He was my true uncle in spirit if not in blood. Lord Boron's voice was like old cooking oil in comparison. Besides, he smoked like a furnace, and his brand of pipe weed burned my nose.

I tried to pull my boot out from under the root, but it stuck, and I hissed with pain.

"Allow me," he said, and he waved Otha aside.

"Stupid maid!" he said sharply. "I should dismiss you for your carelessness!"

Not likely. They might need her "carelessness" for a few more accidents. She groveled appropriately and back away. I bit my tongue while he carefully pulled my boot from under the root. I could feel my ankle getting spongy and thick.

"May I?" he asked while tapping my boot.

"Aye," I replied while thinking up a number of more colorful responses.

He led me over to a rock and slowly pulled it off. I felt my ankle, which had swelled to the size of a large apple.

"Is it broken?" I asked as I winced. It really did hurt.

"No," he replied. Then he asked to carry me to my father whom I was sure was delighted. I nodded. He swung me up into his arms, and I stiffened.

"I won't hurt you," he said. Then he bent his head, and his lips brushed my ear. I tried not to flinch. "Clever girl," he whispered. "I won't tell."

I jerked, but he simply tightened his arms around me. What did he mean? I knew what I heard in his voice, but I was unsettled. Mother said not to trust him, and I believed her, so I kept silent. I was never good at intrigue. Deceit when necessary, of course. But intrigue scared me. It was like a rat trap. It attracted all sorts with promises of reward and then snapped their necks.

"What did you do now, Areen?" father asked impatiently. I knew he was pleased because he wasn't yelling. "Clumsy child!"

Lord Boron played peacemaker and tried to pacify him, all the while bouncing me slightly in his arms to get a better grasp. Guessing that he didn't usually carry much weight, I decided to make him pay in my own way. I moaned and shifted slightly to make him lurch to hang onto me. I heard his gasp of pain and grinned like a fool inside. If I was going to hurt, I wasn't going to do it alone. I hoped his back ached enough to keep him from sleeping. I knew I wasn't going to.

"Set her down, Boron," father said angrily. "We've things to discuss."

His minion tried to obey, but I didn't let go at first and instead yanked on his fat neck. It was my last chance to wrench his back, and I made the most of it. I was happy to hear a small pop.

"Yes, father," I said meekly. I could hear Lord Boron grunting as he hobbled to his seat. I thought that was only proper. He wouldn't tell on me, and I wouldn't tell on me—a perfect arrangement.

"Areen," he said sternly, "handling the Durins will take great skill. If they think us weak, they'll think they have the power to bend us to their will. I won't stand for that. Therefore, you need to act _normal_."

There was that horrid word again. 'Why can't you act _normal?_" "Why aren't you _normal?_" "You'll _never_ be _normal!_" Of course, not being normal, how could I ever be exceptional? I was doomed to forever be a _burden._ Another hateful word. But I didn't have time to think about it more, and I bit my lip. I knew what was coming but, like before, it didn't make it any easier.

"And if I can't fool them, father?" I had to force that last out. He hardly deserved the term.

I could almost hear the leer. I imagined his face pulling up so that his lips reached his eyes, his wet gums gleaming.

"Sky and Summer will pay for it with their lives … so I know you'll be convincing."

Then, strangely, Lord Boron stopped him.

"I'm sure such measures aren't needed," he said slowly. "Areen will _not_ fail us. She's _smarter_ than you think."

I'm sure he was talking to me, not father, but I didn't understand why. It was one of those nudge, nudge, wink, wink things that I never got. I can read voices, but I'm not so good with intentions. You need to see facial expressions, body language, and all the other little essentials that make a complete picture. There I was literally and figuratively in the dark, and it made me nervous. I was sure they were having an easier time of it at Erebor.

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"I don't see why I can't stay the way I am, Fili," Kili said sullenly. "Uncle isn't married, and no one bothers _him._ If he's so eager, why doesn't he marry her?"

Fili fingered the black tunic, green velvet jerkin, and black breeches laid out on Kili's bed.

"So they're ready," Fili said impressed. "Very nice."

He glanced over at his brother's dark expression and sighed. Ever since he married Della and had little Frerin, Kili had been aimless and depressed. He missed his brother's company and resented Della's insistence that Fili spend more time at home when his duties were done. No more exploring the slopes or jaunts to Dale. Of course, Kili loved his little nephew. The dwarfling practically lived on his shoulders, but his merry spirit was gone, and Thorin worried about him.

"He's not himself, Balin," Thorin had said almost a year ago while they watched Kili plod listlessly by. He carried out his responsibilities faithfully and well. No one could find fault him there, but his spark was gone. He turned to his faithful friend for his opinion.

"Perhaps finding a wife for himself might put the snap back in his step," Balin wondered. "He's a social lad unlike you, Thorin. He needs company."

The King of Erebor looked down at him in dismay, but he couldn't deny his words. He did enjoy his solitude and felt no need for more company than himself on most occasions. When he did want others around, his best friends and kin were all he required. Then he could return his chambers, enjoy a full glass of red wine, and look over reports and contracts. He might even sneak in some pages of a good book on dwarven history or battle strategies.

"Mmm, perhaps," he replied stroking his beard. Then his eyes lit with a spark. "Bring the princess of the Grey Mountains."

Balin looked skeptical.

"I hardly think she suits," he said doubtfully. "That's a small and insignificant clan. She hardly deserves the title. I think other, more established clans would have better candidates."

"No," Thorin replied, "she's the one."

Balin shook his head.

"I think we should try the other clans first. If he doesn't find one among them, then we can send for her. We're working out a contract with them anyhow and will require the lord's presence. He can bring his daughter then."

Thorin cocked his head to the side with two fingers against his lips as he considered Balin's words. Then he waved his hand.

"I'll agree to the others coming if you make certain she accompanies her father. I will leave the choice to the lad for the time being."

Then he leaned in.

"But if he doesn't pick one, I'll make my own choice."

Balin chortled.

"That means you need to entertain," he said slyly. "I seem to recall how much you hate it."

Thorin chewed his bottom lip.

"I would go to the Halls of Mandos and back for him, so I can put up with this."

So in short order, invitations went out from Erebor to strengthen ties with the other major dwarven settlements. One and all were delighted to come. Families came hoping to be associated with Erebor for greater reasons than distant kinship and trade. Kili was cheered for a time, but after the first few visits, he seemed to retreat even further into himself. The only joy Thorin saw was at the feast when he sat next to his brother.

"This isn't working," Thorin said to Balin and Dwalin after they watched Kili talk politely and then stifle a yawn. "There's no one who interests him. I knew this would happen."

"Well," Balin replied, conceding his case, "It seems you were right. Perhaps the problem is that they're all proper lasses concerned with doing the right thing and making a good impression. He needs someone like Fili, someone who's fun and adventurous. As you said, perhaps a lass from one of the outer settlements _would_ be a little less proper and more interesting. He does need someone who can match his spirit."

Thorin nodded with satisfaction. The princess of the Grey Mountains was far from court affairs or the rigid customs that seemed to strangle the life out of dwarrowdams. The colony there was fairly new, and reports from merchants on the dwarves who lived there were most interesting indeed. Thorin had been very entertained by some of their stories.

"Aye, so send for the princess of the Grey Mountains," Thorin said, pleased to have come to a good decision—at least in his mind.

Dwalin scratched his beard and looked down at his brother. The two raised their brows and shared a knowing look.

"As what?" Balin asked.

"As his intended, of course. If the lad can't choose for himself, then I will choose for him."

After another moment of silence, Dwalin decided to take a turn.

"He'll resent it, Thorin," he said. "No dwarrow wants such a decision made for him. He'll hate her before she ever steps foot in Erebor."

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**So in the next chapter we'll see what happens! Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all for your kind remarks. Now I have a problem I need you all to solve. Who is Areen going to end up with? Some are rooting for Kili and some for Thorin. There are also those rooting for Feron. What do you think?**

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**Chapter 8**

I spent sleepless hours trying to find the _least_ uncomfortable position I could. But I wasn't discouraged. Not at all. I had companion in pain and that made all the difference. Lord Boron grunted and groaned the entire night. His poor back. I must have wrenched it something awful. I smiled to myself and snuggled down as best I could. I knew that father wanted me to look my best tomorrow. I don't think he gave a thought to Lord Boron. There was a part of me that felt bad for hurting him, but I was angrier that he plotted with father to hurt my dear companions.

Summer was nearby. I could tell by her soft snufflings. I liked to think that she was talking in her sleep and dreaming of wide meadows, green grass, fresh water, and a frisky stallion nearby. If she dreamed of me, I hoped she'd think of someone who loves her enough to risk the wrath of a powerful king to keep her alive. I felt Sky next to me. She had curled up against me in the night, and I was grateful for her warmth and loyal devotion. Somehow, she knew I was hurt and kept away from my ankle. I finally fell asleep with my head on her back.

The warm sun woke me after only a few hours of sleep. I had a moment of lovely peace before I heard angry voices. Otha hurried to my side. Behind her were heavy footfalls. I didn't need to guess whose they were.

"Do what you must to try to make her presentable," my father said to Otha. "You!" He called to Kitra. "Tie that dog to the wagon."

Then I heard Summer stamping and whinnying in a panic. The guards shouted and I heard a whip cracking. I tried to get up and fell. Kitra hauled me back up.

"Stop! Stop!" I cried. "Don't hurt her!"

I had never whipped Summer, and I was desperate to stop them. Then I heard Lord Boron.

"Cease this at once, do you hear?" he said loudly. "She doesn't need you all crowding around and making her frantic. Step back now!"

I heard him speak soothingly to Summer and urge her toward me.

"Come see your mistress, Summer," he crooned. "I won't hurt you. That's a good lass."

I heard him take the reins and clap her gently on the rump to get her moving.

"Summer, come here," I called. "Here girl!" She nickered and trotted over.

Thrusting her head against my chest, she nearly knocked me down. Otha and Kitra stood on either side, and I made my way with their help along Summer's neck and hugged her chest. She lowered her head as she always did and held me close.

"Good girl, good girl." She was so strong, but her life was now in my hands, and I started shaking. I couldn't do this. I couldn't fool the Durins, and she would die.

"I can't do this. Help me, Mahal, I can't do this!"

My teeth started chattering, and Summer whinnied. She felt my distress, and it drew unwanted attention to us.

Otha and Kitra leaned in.

"We will be there to help you and make any excuses you need," Otha said in a low voice.

"Aye," Kitra added. "The trade agreement won't take long, and once it's signed, they'll be safe no matter what happens after."

I supposed she was right, but truth doesn't always calm the heart. Not mine anyway. Once a picture appeared in my mind, it was hard to get rid of it. Increasingly terrible images flashed through my mind until I imagined King Thorin holding me by my ankle over the wall of Erebor. I had heard that he did that with one of his company for deceiving him—a harmless hobbit, I think—so why wouldn't he do the same to me?

I nodded like I was feeling better anyway and felt along Summer's back. I suspected the cause of her fear, and I was right. The side-saddle was hanging under her belly because she panicked before they tightened the girth. It was one of those moments when I wished I could see. I wanted to watch them put a saddle on a horse who'd never worn one before.

"Easy there, Summer, easy there," I said, trying to calm her, but there was no way she was going to allow the saddle. Then I thought of something else.

"Lord Boron," I called, his name tasting like bile in my mouth, "I think I may have a solution to the problem."

I was pleased to hear him hobble over. Then I wondered what King Thorin and his princely nephews would think of us all crutching in to wince before him.

"I can ride side-saddle without the saddle, my lord," I said demurely.

He patted Summer's neck, and I filed away a thought to wash her down at the first opportunity.

"If you think you can, my princess," he said while obviously thinking through what could happen, "but the saddle is safer."

I shook my head. No, it wasn't, and he knew it. Then I felt his breath near my ear. I hoped this wasn't becoming a habit.

"As long as you're sure, my lady," he said. "_I_ wouldn't want anything to happen to _you._"

There it was again, that breathy hint of insinuation. I wished Feron was with me. He was always my greatest champion. I was never teased or bullied as a child, and I never knew why until years later. Mebla and Tildur used to help me get around until I knew our lands as well as them. Later, Mebla told me that Feron would walk a few paces in front of me, beside me, or behind me with clenched fists and glare at anyone who even smirked. He was always a big lad. He would know what to do now, or Lord Vinn. It was too much to hope that they all would come in two months. I might be dead by then, laying in a crushed heap at foot of Erebor's walls while King Thorin shouted curses at my dead body. It _could_ happen. Anything could happen.

Lord Boron convinced father to let me try to ride Summer my way, but he wasn't happy about it.

"Ungrateful child," he muttered. "That saddle was expensive."

I mumbled my apologies and, after Otha and Kitra made me look as well as they could, I stood beside Summer and whispered in her ear. She folded her legs and settled on the ground. I felt along her back and seated myself carefully. I hoped I wouldn't fall.

"Up girl!"

Summer carefully got to her feet, and I had Otha adjust my skirts.

"Why you look lovely, my lady," Lord Boron said from his pony. "Just lovely."

I had no idea if that was true, but I didn't care to ask. It wouldn't have made any difference anyway.

We traveled for some miles before everything suddenly went white, and the air turned cold. I smelled snow, which was odd for spring. Then I knew I was facing the mountain. I couldn't see anything but white, but I was already overwhelmed. Father and Lord Boron gushed at its size and majesty. It must have been quite a sight, but all I wanted to do was gallop away as fast as I could. I wondered if Dale would accept political refugees.

Too soon we heard sentries call and stop our little caravan.

"Halt! Who approaches Erebor, the kingdom of Thorin Oakenshield?"

I snorted softly, but no one heard me. I could tell that they were too preoccupied with gawping at what must have been the massive front wall and doors of the mountain. I'm sure it was impressive to say the least, but I was more taken with the sentries' words. It would have been enough to say "Who approaches Erebor?" but to add "the kingdom of Thorin Oakenshield" seemed a bit over the top. I bet that the king himself told them to say that. Since five armies fought over the mountain, I guessed he wanted to make sure that everyone knew who won. Father answered calmly. Greed can work wonders.

"You may approach and enter."

I turned to my loyal maids.

"See it for me," I whispered.

Kitra pulled her pony closer. While Otha was quick-witted, Kitra was much more creative and had helped me "see" during our journey.

"There are two massive statues with grim faces carved into the mountain on either side of the front gate, which is as tall as the low hill beyond our gate," she said softly.

I started breathing faster.

"The front of the mountain is black and green granite, and flags of royal blue and black are flying from the ramparts above. The sentries are attired in red and gold. It's, um, it's the most magnificent sight I've ever seen."

I flinched. And this was only the outside the mountain!

Father called a sentry forward and explained my condition—the only one he would admit to, that is. We waited outside for a long while until I heard a commotion to my left.

"Prepare yourself, my lady," Otha whispered. "They're bringing out a wheeled chair."

Sky whined by the wagon and strained at the leash. She barked for me, and I didn't turn around. I held myself stiffly and forced myself not to cry. Father hit her nose, and I heard her yelp in pain and cower. My resolve to repay my father strengthened.

"My lady?" an unfamiliar voice called below me on my left. I nodded as royally as I could manage and patted Summer on the neck.

"Down girl!"

The sentries gasped in amazement as she gracefully dipped to the ground. I was sure that not even Thorin Oakenshield or his nephews had ponies bowing to them! I smiled widely while looking down so they couldn't see my eyes.

"Good girl," I said and patted her fondly. "My dear, dear friend."

Then I turned to Otha.

"Bring Sky to me." Father couldn't do anything in front of them, and I was determined to at least say farewell for now.

She nodded and, after a moment, I heard a lovely panting sound racing toward me. Summer tossed her head, and they touched noses. Then Sky trotted over to me with a happy howl, and I hugged her around the neck. I scratched her ears and under her chin. Her tail thumped loudly on the ground.

"A wolf, my lady?"

I almost laughed. It never occurred to me that anyone would be afraid of Sky

"Go with them, Sky," I ordered. She whined and lapped my hand. "I'll see you soon, but go!"

Dropping her head, she let Otha take her away.

Then one of the sentries swung me up in his arms after asking permission and carefully placed me in the chair. The front gates opened with a rumbling that sounded like thunder. I could hear massive chains creaking as they strained to hold enormous counterweights. The chains were well-oiled because I couldn't hear the grinding of rust. King Thorin clearly cared about details. That did not bode well for me.

"Each link is the size of a dwarf, my lady," Kitra whispered. They we were led into the Great Hall. Even I could hear the cavernous echo of thousands of dwarves bustling about the mountain. It felt huge, and I, in comparison, felt like an ant. Father and Lord Boron were speechless as well since I heard nothing from them, and that scared me more than anything else. We walked, well, they walked for what seemed like miles before we stopped. Our sentries informed the guards at the door who we were, and they nodded. The heavy doors groaned open, and I was wheeled into a large room. Kitra leaned over, pretending to adjust my cloak around my shoulders and see to my comfort.

"We're in the throne room, my lady," she whispered. "I believe that's Prince Fili standing on the right. He's the one with blond hair. Prince Kili is standing on the left. He's dark and so handsome, my lady."

"And sitting between them?"

Kitra looked up again and gasped. I don't know how she could have missed him, but I suppose she was looking for "my intended."

"Oh, my lady, it's, it's …"

I heard a shifting in front of me. Then a deep voice resounded throughout the room.

"Welcome to Erebor."

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** Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow, Kili and Thorin are running neck and neck! At this point, I'm not sure who she'll end up with. I guess I'll have to find out with you all! Many thanks for the reviews, PMs, and interest. Final exam tomorrow, but I needed a few breaks after all, so here they are!**

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**Chapter 9**

I don't know what happened, but that voice turned me into a quivering aspic. I was glad I was sitting down. My legs wouldn't have stood the strain even with my cane. I tried to still my shivering so they wouldn't notice. It certainly wouldn't do to faint at first acquaintance. I chided myself for being silly. Maybe all my fears and worries of the past few weeks just wanted to be introduced as well. Since we'd been constant companions lately, they may have felt that they had earned the right. Or maybe it was just the acoustics. Some dwarves spent their lives studying how sound bounces off stone and where to place objects to minimize or maximize effects. That's important to keep machinery from flying apart from the vibrations or stone from cracking. Perhaps King Thorin's ancestors had constructed the throne room in such a way as to make the voice of anyone sitting in that chair sound like a battle cry. It certainly convinced me. I expected to go to war in my wheeled chair any second.

Father and Lord Boron bowed immediately. I knew because I can detect groveling at 50 paces. I inclined my head, hoping for quiet dignity, but any hope I had was already destroyed by being wheeled into the throne room like a pile of refuse. It was maddening, but that stiffened my spine. By Mahal, I might not be able to stand tall with my head held high, but I could certainly sit up straight in my chair!

Father's pride rallied admirably, and he smoothly introduced Lord Boron. I wondered what he was going to say about me. He was so unused to saying anything remotely kind or encouraging that I thought the words might choke him on their way out.

"And this is my daughter, the Princess Areen."

He said it with such satisfaction that I almost bawled. I had never heard _any _love in his voice toward me before. Of course, it was all a front, and I was depressed that he said it only to fill his pockets with Erebor's gold.

Another silence and a slight shifting told me that something else was happening. Then I heard footsteps coming toward me. His gait was light and almost noiseless. A tracker, I thought, or a hunter. Hmmm, perhaps an archer then, although that was somewhat rare among our people. I couldn't think of anything else such a quiet dwarf could be since dwarves were usually anything but quiet. We are a slash and hack people, and subtlety is seldom a word that passes our lips. I liked the bow and arrow at one time myself, but now I couldn't hit the side of a mountain, even a mountain the size of Erebor.

"My lady," I heard a lighter voice say. I raised my hand and felt hair sweep the back of it as he pressed a kiss. No beard? That was unusual. I flashed my eyes up and then down to pretend that I was shy. Mebla and Tildur would have been in hysterics watching. I imagined Feron shaking his head and beckoning me to leave this madness and run away with him.

"I'm sorry you're injured," he said quietly. I kept my head down and smiled while I listened to his polite but slightly bored overtone. His undertone was much more interesting. Reluctance, yes, with a large helping of bitterness and generous dash of resentment. So he hated this as much as me and was no doubt forced into it, but that made no sense. Surely Prince Kili could have anything and anyone he wanted.

"What happened?" came that booming voice again. I had no idea who was supposed to answer, but it wasn't going to be me. I tucked my head safely into my chest and cheerfully passed the coin. Father hemmed and Lord Boron hawed, but he finally came out with something coherent.

"Princess Areen's pony was spooked when she was dismounting, and she twisted her ankle when she fell."

I heard a rumbling in front of me and instinctively looked up and sniffed for rain. The kings of Erebor certainly made good use of their engineers. I hoped he was satisfied with the answer. I was going to get a headache otherwise.

"I see," he said. "My personal physician will attend her and see to her needs."

Oh no, he wasn't! Father stepped forward.

"I wouldn't want to trouble Your Majesty," he said carefully. "Her maids can care for her."

King Thorin didn't answer. Something wasn't right, but I couldn't figure it out, and I couldn't see anything in halls this dark. No light, no colors, no shapes, nothing.

"Her ankle may be broken," he said slowly. I knew it! Attention to detail. He didn't defeat a firedrake and four armies for nothing. "If it isn't showing improvement by tomorrow then he will see to her."

His tone was final. I cocked my head and tried to read it. His overtone was firm, confident, and proud, but not the pride that makes one look like a fool. His pride was a pleased pride like he was happy to be in his home and proud of his people. I smiled to myself. It was rather endearing, and it made up for his nearly blowing my ears off my head. Then I tried to decipher his undertone, but there was nothing to puzzle out. _Nothing._ Everyone had an undertone. _Everyone_ had things that they wanted to say but didn't. But apparently King Thorin hid nothing. That was a surprise. I thought that a king would have a lot to hide. Perhaps then he had all he wanted and so had no hidden desires or complaints. If that was true, he was the first dwarf I'd ever met who was completely satisfied.

"Attendants will take you to the guest chambers now so you can rest for a few hours," he intoned. "Then we will prepare food for you in the formal dining hall."

"We thank you for your hospitality," father said while trying to lose his awe and gain equal footing with the Durins.

In all my ruminating, I completely forgot that Prince Kili was still standing next to me.

"Shall I accompany you to your chambers?" he asked politely.

"I would be glad of it," I replied just as politely.

Otha and Kitra followed closely behind, ready to jump in in case I blundered, but I knew what I wanted to say.

"So I believe you're an archer, Prince Kili," I said softly, smirking to myself. I caught him off-guard as I knew I would.

"How did you know?" he asked with surprise.

_Bull's eye._ I laughed to myself. It was nice to turn the tables on at least one Durin. I hoped I would have more opportunities. If not, I would make them myself. Since I had to be here, I might as well have some fun with them as long as I didn't compromise my secret.

"Your gait," I replied. "You make little noise"—_unlike your uncle,_ I thought—"and that's a skill most used by trackers and hunters. They don't use an ax, sword, or staff, but a bow makes sense."

He hummed. I could tell he was impressed even though he wasn't going to say so.

"Do you shoot, my lady?" he asked.

"Not right now," I replied.

Silence. I thought that was pretty clever, but I guess he didn't agree.

"I used to shoot when I was younger, but," and then I hesitated.

"But?" he prompted.

But I almost died. But I went blind. But I lost the only life I'd ever known to stumble in the smudges for years. But, but, but …. I cleared my throat.

"But the duties of the realm interfered, and I had to put down my bow. I'd love to shoot again."

Stupid! Stupid! Why did I say that? I wished I _could_ shoot, but I never meant to say so.

"Well," he replied, "when your ankle is healed we can shoot together."

Were we at my chambers yet? Just how big _was_ this mountain? I was getting tired, and I knew from experience and the comments of friends that I tended to rattle on when I was tired. Otha subtly cleared her throat.

"That sounds lovely, but I'm afraid I've lost my skill."

There! That should put him off.

"Well," he said tonelessly, "I'd be delighted to re-teach you."

I sighed. There was nothing to do but nod my head graciously.

"These are your chambers, my lady," he said softly. "I will return in a few hours to take you to the dining hall."

"I thank you," I said. Kitra cleared her throat, and I lifted my hand in time for him to bestow another gentle kiss. The end of the day couldn't come soon enough.

I had hopped over to a luxurious bed and settled down for a welcome nap when Lord Boron knocked on the door. His timing was always awful. I suspected he planned it that way.

"Whatever does he want?" Otha whispered, but I nodded my head and moved to sit at the edge of the bed.

"My lady," he said as he strode into my bed chamber without a by-your-leave, "I thought you handled yourself wonderfully just now, and I thought that perhaps we should work out a few signals together for the feast this evening."

He made some sense, some _small_ sense, but the last thing I wanted was to work together on anything.

"We aren't even sure we'll be seated near each other, my lord," I said hoping that was true. "I expect I'll be seated next to my husband-to-be."

He chuckled and complimented my logical mind.

"Ah, my lady, but I'll make certain that _I'm_ sitting next to _you_."

I didn't care what he was hinting at. I just wanted him to leave.

"Aye, well, I'm sure we can come up with something suitable, my lord, but I really must rest or else I'm sure that no signal will stop me from making a horrible mistake."

He left after giving me a long and lingering kiss on my hand. Otha ran for a wash cloth as soon as he was gone.

I slept soundly but was awakened too soon to bathe and ready myself for a dinner with two princes and a king. Father didn't count. Otha braided my hair, and Kitra brought out the gown to match mother's jewelry. It fit well, but I felt a draft on my chest.

"Is it too revealing?" I asked. I wasn't used to formal wear, and I felt my chest swelling a bit above the dip in the neckline. It wasn't immodest, but more of me was showing than usual.

"The gown is tasteful but teasing," Kitra said.

That was enough to make me uncomfortable. A tempting neckline in front of father? How embarrassing! Then again, he probably wouldn't notice. Something tickling my mind told that Lord Boron might.

Prince Kili showed up at my door on time, and Lord Boron just showed up.

"You looked lovely," Prince Kili said quietly.

"Aye," Lord Boron seconded. I was sure I imagined him smacking his lips. "_Very_ lovely indeed."

Prince Kili took charge of my wheeled chair, and I took a deep breath as we entered the formal dining hall. I already knew where it was because of the smell of roast kid and other meats wafting my way. Two sentries bowed and mumbled "My lords" before widening the door for us. Inside I heard the murmur of more dwarves than the immediate family.

"Ah, Princess Areen!" came a very friendly voice. I couldn't help smiling. "I'm Prince Fili, brother to this sorry dwarf whose life has just taken a turn for the better!"

I liked him already. He was much more cheerful than his brother or uncle, and he seemed kinder too. Something had softened him. Then his softener came up behind him.

"And this is my wife, Della."

I looked up under my lashes as he kissed my hand cheerfully, and Princess Della took my other.

"I'm so happy to meet you at last," she said.

I smiled in return.

"So when are you due, my lady?"

A sudden silence told me that she wasn't far enough along to show, and I bit my lip. But I wasn't wrong. Pregnant women have a peaty smell that sensitive noses can spot immediately. When I was a child, I always wondered why dogs seemed to push their snouts where they didn't belong, and why it was always the women folk who shooed them away. Later I realized that they could sniff out a fertile female on the spot.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Princess Areen," Fili spluttered, trying somehow to make up for my mistake. It was lovely and somewhat funny to hear him try.

"Fili."

"Della's still a little plump from having Frerin, but she's not expecting," he stammered.

"Fili dear."

"I'm sure you couldn't have known that, so no harm done."

"Fili!"

Della squeezed my hand.

"I wasn't going to tell you until later this evening, but I went to see Oin today. She's right, my love."

I heard a gurgling sound before Prince Fili swept up his wife and shouted to the rest of the room. Pregnancy was one of the many, many reasons dwarves exploit to hoist ale, so we quickly rounded the table. Prince Kili sat to my right, and somehow Lord Boron got himself settled on my left.

"How did you know?" my husband-to-be muttered.

I took a deep breath. Then I realized that blindness would be the last thing they'd guess, so I could say anything reasonable.

"It's just one of those things we can know about each other."

Lord Boron grunted admiringly. Then he leaned over after Prince Fili caught his brother's attention.

"I'll fix your plate the way it is at home," he whispered, his nose brushing one of my braids.

I nodded, not wanting to prolong the interaction. At home, my dinner plate was always served with breads on the left, vegetables on the right, and the meat in the middle. My water-glass was always on the left, and my wine goblet or ale tankard on the right.

Suddenly, His Highness Himself addressed me.

"I congratulate you on your perception, Princess Areen," he said. His voice was still deep and resonant, but I was right about the acoustics. I looked somewhere in his general direction and smiled.

"May I ask you to apply that perception to your first impressions of Erebor?"

Ugh. He was fishing for compliments. I suppose after nearing dying for it along with his kin, he deserved a little praise, but father and Lord Boron had already said everything I could think of. I blurted out the only thing that came to mind.

"Hmmm, aye, well, your chains at the front gate are well-oiled."

Another silence. I _really_ needed to think first. No amount of throat-clearing was going to get me out of that one. Surprisingly, Prince Fili came to my rescue again with uproarious laughter that pulled others in.

"She's got you pinned, uncle!" he shouted while slapping his knees. He laughed until even Prince Kili let out a few chuckles. Then I heard an unknown voice down the table.

"Well, lass, you just may understand our king better than any of us because he certainly does take pride in details," said a very amused older voice. "My name is Balin, my lady, and I must say that you are a breath of fresh air."

The king only hummed and then we turned our attention to our food. It was well-cooked but not especially flavorful. I had brought some herbs and spices from home as a keepsake, but I thought that my meal needed them more. Everyone ate well enough, but I didn't hear any of the grunts and moans of delighted approval. It was good but no more. Perhaps the Durins put all their energy into Erebor and had little left over for setting menus, but if I was going to live here, the cook and I needed to chat.

I was just about to put a forkful of potatoes in my mouth when the king addressed me again. I hoped I wasn't in trouble.

"You honor us by wearing your jewelry from Erebor, Princess Areen," he said with a hint of approval.

I touched mother's necklace, and words came to my mind. I was sure of them this time.

"Actually, Your Majesty," I said, "my mother lent this to me so that all my house may honor you and your people. I've loved this necklace ever since I was a child, and I'm blessed to wear it in its birthplace."

A chorus of surprised murmurs told me that I was on target.

"Indeed," the king said in a slightly warmer tone.

Soon enough we had eaten our fill, and I needed to rest.

"I will take her back, Prince Kili," Lord Boron said. "You deserve to celebrate your new nephew."

Otha and Kitra followed close behind as Lord Boron slowly wheeled me to my chambers.

"I knew you'd be equal to the challenge," he said warmly. "My faith in you wasn't misplaced."

I decided to imitate King Thorin.

"Indeed."

Personally, I was just glad I survived the day.

* * *

**Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Finals are over so bonus chapter! Thanks for your lovely support and entrance in the Thorin vs. Kili Sweepstakes!**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Thorin and Balin sat in the dining hall, drinking leftover ale, and picking apart the day.

"So what do you think?" Balin asked. "They're a minor family but perfectly respectable, and they _do _have the finest dyes and spices we can find in the area."

Thorin nodded but said nothing, his attention fixed on the amber liquid in the crystal tankard held in a silver frame.

"Aye, they do."

Balin tilted his head and observed his somber king.

"But?"

Thorin looked up, his sky-blue eyes thoughtful.

"But there's something strange going on," he replied quietly. "I can't explain why I think so, but the hair on the back of my neck went up when they were introduced."

Balin put his elbow on the table and held the side of his face between his fingers and thumb.

"Do you suspect treachery or dishonesty?'

Thorin inhaled and exhaled slowly, pressing his lips together.

"I'm not certain," he replied, his eyes slightly unfocused as though he was looking off into the distance. "Something is awry, but I can't prove why I think so."

Balin bobbed his head from side to side while he considered the possibilities. Entering into a trade agreement was a serious matter and depended on the honor and trustworthiness of one's partners. Thorin was always fair but cautious in his dealings. So far, everything seemed in order; that is, until now. He couldn't see anything immediately wrong, but Thorin's instincts were on target more often than not.

"What will you do?"

His king took a long drink, pushed the tankard away, and steepled his hands under his nose.

"I won't sign the agreement right away," he replied. His eyes narrowed as he thought through his plan. "I'll ask them all to stay for about two months. At the end of that time, I'll know what I need to. I'll give them some gold upfront as a measure of good faith. Perhaps that'll relax their guard, and I can find out what I want to know."

Balin pursed his lips and nodded.

"And if you're wrong?"

Thorin shrugged matter-of-factly.

"Then no harm done."

* * *

I slept fairly well, and in the morning Otha told me that I had received a message from Prince Kili. Something had come up, and he wouldn't be able to spend time with me today. I think the thing that came up was me. I didn't blame him. I liked the idea of a day to myself. I needed to come up with strategies anyway to deal with the Durins until the agreement was signed. Then I didn't care if they wanted me or not. Feron was coming and, if I wasn't allowed to stay, I'd go away with him. I felt a little strange about that though. My silly crush faded away a long time ago and what was left was a fond friendship. Then I considered his offer briefly. At the moment, I couldn't add it to my list of things to think about, but I was sure I would come to love him in time if I needed to. His embrace was warm and welcoming, and he never tried to bend me to his will. That was important. I couldn't be anything other than myself—excepting the present circumstances, of course—and I needed someone who'd let me be me. I hoped Prince Kili was the understanding sort.

"Did he say couldn't or _wouldn't?_" I asked. She looked at the parchment again.

"It says wouldn't." She pulled a face. "Perhaps he meant couldn't. Anyway, he says that you're to rest your ankle today so you can recover faster. Maybe he's hoping to take you shooting soon."

Hmm, maybe I could make it through today without dislocating my jaw from my foot being wedged firmly between my teeth.

"Is that all?"

Otha sighed. "It seems that King Thorin has extended an invitation for your father and Lord Boron to stay for two months."

I hoped I was wrong in what I was thinking, but nothing seemed to go my way lately.

"Before or after he's signed the trade agreement?"

I held my breath waiting for the answer. I knew I couldn't hold on for two months. I was sure before, but it was only confirmed at my first meeting them that the Durins were no fools and would find out quickly.

"After, my lady, we're so sorry," Otha replied in obvious distress. Kitra added her condolences.

I felt a hollow feeling in my belly. Sky and Summer were going to die. Their death sentences were already signed. Kitra ran for a handkerchief.

"There, there, my lady," she said soothingly. "Perhaps it won't be so bad after all. We've been treated very kindly by King Thorin's staff, and that's unusual for servants. Perhaps he'll treat you the same."

Aye, like a servant. Maybe he'd put me in charge of scrubbing his privy. I wasn't impressed, and I was getting angrier by the moment. How could father and Lord Boron put me in this position? I had a good mind to limp to their rooms and kick them both in their most sensitive spots. Then I'd take Summer and Sky and run away. I was sure we could find our way home.

"That's not all, my lady," Otha said. I could tell that she was dreading my response. I had just wiped away my weepy tears, but she seemed sure that her other news would send me off the height of hysterics.

"King Thorin has instructed his personal physician to see you this morning."

I threw myself into my pillow and sobbed.

* * *

Master Oin had come to my door twice already, but I managed to dodge him. I would say that was pretty amusing since I could hardly walk at all, but desperation was known to increase one's speed, and I was too upset to joke. The first time my maids said I was in the privy, and the second time I was "in my bath." Their regretful tones appeased him the first time, but he was a little more forceful the second. I knew there wouldn't be a third.

A knock confirmed my fears, and I jumped into bed and pulled the covers up, pretending to sleep.

"I'm sorry, Master Oin, but Princess Areen is asleep," Kitra said with just the right amount of polite indignation.

Bless mother for sending those two gems with me! Father was too obtuse to see that she had placed her allies under his nose. He had looked over from time to time only to see them muttering about me and scowling. Once he looked away, they rolled their eyes and tittered.

"Well, my lord ordered that I see to the lass," Master Oin said firmly, "and I'm sure she's slept enough for the day."

Without asking permission, he pushed the door open and marched in. It seemed that a king's command outweighed a princess' request. Of course it did.

"Princess Areen," he said in his normal tone. Mahal, he knew I wasn't asleep. "I see you're shy about my checking your ankle, but I have my orders. King Thorin insists that you receive the best care, and _that _is what you'll get—_now._"

I opened one eye and imagined a dwarf scowling down at me like an irritated and knowing parent. Pretending was over. I pushed the covers back and folded my arms across my chest. I had only one move left, and I hoped he was as honorable as his king. Everything depended on it. Mother's words about King Thorin rang in my head, but I pushed them away.

"Master Oin," I said in my most serious tone while I looked past him like a petulant child, "I will allow you to examine my ankle under the condition that you keep all information to yourself, never to share it with anyone. You need to swear to me on your honor and the oath you hold most sacred."

He didn't say anything at first. I wasn't sure he'd ever had a patient who demanded such a thing first-off. I held my pose while he shifted on his feet, no doubt trying to assess my secret. I hoped he didn't suspect anything serious yet. Everything all depended on him thinking that I was just shy and private.

"Why, my lady," he replied finally, "there's no need to be skittish. I'll not hurt you."

He chuckled a bit, but I held firm.

"Do you _swear?_" I demanded.

His breathing changed from calm and controlled to deep with loud puffs from his nostrils. Perhaps he suspected something but wasn't sure if it was serious enough to tell his princes and king. I could tell that he was weighing what I might tell him with his duty to his king's command.

"Aye," he replied finally, "I swear on my honor and Durin's tomb that I'll not share anything I learn from today."

I nodded and pulled out my injured leg from the sheets. He unwrapped the bandages and held my instep firmly while he gently manipulated my foot. I knew that the swelling had gone down and that the time would soon come when I couldn't justify the wheeled chair.

"Healing nicely. Let's compare this ankle to your other one," he said amiably. "So you knew that Princess Della was expecting, eh? That's unusual."

He paused and hummed for a moment like he was remembering something, but I shrugged and said nothing. I could hear Otha and Kitra drawing closer. He pulled the sheets off my other leg and placed them together. No one made a sound.

"My lady," he said slowly, "I assume that this is what you wanted to keep from me?"

I nodded and tears welled. I pulled my knees up and dropped my head on them. He sighed and lifted my chin. I looked away from his hand.

"This isn't so very much," he said. "There's no reason to feel ashamed. I don't know why your people didn't make a special shoe for you though."

My head jerked back to him. Such a thing had never occurred to me or anyone else. He inhaled slowly, his breath hissing between his teeth. My maids tried to rush him out the door, saying that he was done and could leave, but to no avail.

"Tell me," he asked, drawing out his words slowly, "what did you think of the throne room where you met King Thorin?"

I didn't know why he asked me that, but I was game.

"It was very loud," I answered, ducking my head like I was impressed but shy about sharing my opinion.

"I see," was all he said. I heard him tapping his foot.

"And how was your dinner last night?"

Now I knew that _something_ was afoot, but I couldn't figure it out. I felt lost, like everyone knew what was going on but me. Otha and Kitra kept making worried noises behind him and clearing their throats.

"It was good but rather bland for my taste," I replied softly. Then I knew why he had asked those questions. I was caught.

"Oh, lass!" he said softly, "how long did you think you could hide this?"

I fumbled for his hand. I was completely undone, and I was sure I looked like the small, stumbling child I once was.

"You mustn't tell, Master Oin," I cried. "You promised!"

I felt his weight as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I can't keep this to myself, my lady," he replied. "It's not right for Prince Kili and King Thorin not to know. It's not fair to them."

I didn't care.

"You promised!" I said. "You promised on your honor and with an oath, and by all I love, I _will_ hold you to it!"

He took my hand and squeezed it.

"You should have told them. They deserve to decide whether or not you're suitable."

My blind eyes flashed. I knew I couldn't see him, but I would _make_ him see me! I jumped off the bed and turned to him.

"Guide my eyes to yours!" I commanded.

He lifted my face.

"Am I looking at you?"

"Aye," he replied uncertainly.

I balled my hands and faced him squarely.

"Then you listen _well,_" I said harshly. "Am I _less_ of a person because I'm blind? Have I lost my feelings, mind, or heart because a fever took my eyes? Do you discard your elderly or wounded because they're no longer _suitable?_ Don't we _honor_ them instead? I'll have you know that I'm _just_ as capable and fully myself as I was before I went blind, and if my blindness _offends_ your precious prince and king then they aren't good enough for _me!_"

I heard him stammer while he tried to take in what I said. Then Kitra came over and hugged me while Otha put her hand on my back. He made a noise of surprise.

"You're much-loved, my lady," he commented. "They defend you." Then he grudgingly added, "Not that you need it."

I lifted my chin proudly.

"No, I don't, not usually anyway," I said in a slightly more civil tone.

He slapped his knees and snorted, but I knew then I had him on my side.

"Well," he said, "we have quite the situation here. Why didn't your father say something from the start?"

"My people are hungry, so we needed this trade agreement," I explained impatiently. "I couldn't say anything because father said he would kill my guide dog and pony if anyone found out before the agreement was signed."

"Ah," he replied as all things became clear, "he doesn't want to show weakness then, does he? Tell me, my lady, did you want to come here?"

I shook my head.

"I was forced at first, Master Oin," I said, "but then I thought that I might be able to help my people who are suffering because of father's incompetence."

"You love them enough to go along with his cruelty for their sake?" he asked in a thoughtful tone.

I wasn't sure what he wanted to know, but it didn't matter anymore.

"Of course," I said. "They're my people, and I'd do _anythin_g for them. However, if I'm shunned here or cast off, a friend will take me away with him to the Iron Hills and marry me. His brother and sister would join us later since they're my dearest friends. It's all arranged if I agree."

"And we'd not leave you, my lady, so we'd be going with you too," Otha replied. Kitra loudly seconded.

His weight shifted on the bed. I got the feeling that he was somewhat unnerved.

"You have another suitor then? Has he bonded himself to you?"

I shook my head.

"No, he waits for word from me," I said slowly. I wasn't sure how wise it was to involve Feron at this moment, but then I remembered that if he wasn't going to reveal my blindness, then he certainly wasn't going to reveal anything else. "He's coming with the first shipment of dyes and spices to find out my answer."

Master Oin blew out his breath in a mighty whoosh.

"I promised not to tell on my honor and oath," he said at last, "but you'll not be able to put this by them for long, and Master Balin is shrewd to boot. You'd best come clean soon."

I shook my head.

"And have blood on my hands for it? No, Master Oin, I'd rather have your king come down on me with lightning and fire than betray those I love."

He heaved to his feet and kissed my hand.

"Your leg is shorter by two and a half inches," he said by way of sealing our pact. "I'll have a pair of boots and shoes made by tonight. The rest is up to you."

I took a relieved breath and smiled gratefully.

He walked to the door and opened it. Then I heard his voice one last time.

"Beware, my lady. If Thorin Oakenshield discovers your deceit, he _will_ come down on you with lightning and fire."

* * *

**Please review! I rushed this out as a thank you for your support.**


	11. Chapter 11

**This is just a little chapter for now, but more is coming, and personalities will collide and clash. We'll see who's left standing when all's said and done.**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

I waited in my chambers all day in excited anticipation. How would it feel to be even and steady for once? To walk with both hands free? Otha, Kitra, and I giggled as we gushed over Master Oin's wonderful gift. I couldn't imagine walking like everyone else, but in a few hours I would! Like everyone else! The pain of limping along would be gone—forever!

"Oh, my lady, you have a friend here!" Kitra said clapping her hands together.

Well, not exactly. More like a slight acquaintance tricked into keeping my secret. One side of my mouth pulled up into a grimace. He was quite stern about my being honest with the Durins, and I couldn't say he was wrong. No, I take that back. He was wrong, _really_ wrong about my blindness being an issue. I would _never_ take back what I said about that! If they didn't like me for me, then well and good. Everyone has that right, but I couldn't let him believe that my blindness made me less of a person. I won't accept that from _anyone. _

I thought about what might happen if King Thorin found out. Hmm, lightening and fire? I _had_ imagined him hanging me over the wall by my ankle, but I was being a bit—just a bit—dramatic. Perhaps Master Oin overstated the situation. Really, what was the big deal about my being blind anyway? It mattered to father, but it never mattered to anyone else; that is, anyone I cared about. Besides, King Thorin wanted our dyes and spices. I was just a goodwill add-on. If Prince Kili didn't want to marry me, he'd find a way around it. He was already off to a good start.

I had almost talked myself into agreeing with Master Oin and telling the truth for integrity's sake but then I decided to hold off until I could find a way to keep Sky and Summer safe. No one could think that unfair. The truth after my friends were out of father's reach. I sat down to my dinner satisfied that I had done what was right for everyone. It wasn't _exactly_ lying now. It was just a ... delay in telling truth. Aye, that fit _quite_ nicely.

After dinner, I heard a knock on the door, and a wave of excitement weakened my knees. Master Oin's reception would be very different from earlier in the day. We crowded around the door, bobbing up and down like overeager children.

"Now move aside, ladies," he said gruffly. "I can't even get through the door!"

But he wasn't upset. His voice seemed more amused than anything. He acted like a grandfather gently chiding his grandchildren for wanting their presents early. Otha and Kitra all but yanked him into the room. I knew my eyes were shining because he chuckled softly and chucked me under the chin.

"Ah, you're beaming, lass," he said in a kindly tone. "I pushed the cobblers hard to get these done, but your smile makes it all worthwhile. The last time I saw someone this happy was when King Thorin first took the throne with the dwarves from Ered Luin cheering him on. Aye, that was a sight to remember."

He carefully led me over to the bed and sat me down. Then he kneeled at my feet. Otha and Kitra stood on either side and gasped as he pulled two pairs of shoes and one pair of boots out of a leather satchel.

"Oh, my lady," Kitra breathed with sincere appreciation, "one pair is black velvet with little diamonds on the toes."

I imagined my feet glittering as I walked proudly down the hallways. The other pair was royal blue velvet with blue, satin bows. A sparkling sapphire in the middle attached them to the shoes. Otha nearly lost her voice describing them. The last was a sturdy pair of tall, brown riding boots embossed with geometric designs.

"Thank you, Master Oin!" I cried. "Oh, thank you!"

I felt the air until I touched his shoulders, and then I threw myself into his arms. He almost fell over, but he chuckled and patted my back. I felt him kiss my forehead.

"I still think you need to tell King Thorin," he said, "but I can't be angry at that face. Come, let's try them out and see how you do."

I ran my fingers reverently over the shoes and felt the soft velvet so thick that I could push a finger into the nap.

"I had them make the heels black to blend in with the floors," he said. "That way it will be harder to see the difference."

Attention to detail. I knew I would rue that someday, but I blessed it now. I slipped the black pair on, and Master Oin held one hand while Otha held the other.

"Small steps, my lady," he said. "That's it. Easy does it."

They slowly eased away from me until I was walking on my own. I felt so tall! Oh! What a glorious feeling, and my hips and shoulders didn't ache. I walked unsteadily at first but caught on to the rhythm after about 30 minutes. I couldn't get enough of it.

"Swing your arms a little when you walk, my lady," he said. "Don't cradle your arm like you used to when you needed to balance yourself."

I obeyed his directions and even was able to skip a little. They chuckled and laughed at my exuberance.

"Can I dance, do you think?" I never could before, but I wanted to try.

Master Oin took my hand and had me step back, so he could bow.

"My lady," he asked formally," may I have this dance?"

He took my hand and told me what to do. I had never twirled and whirled before, and even though he did it slowly, I felt like I could fly. Then Otha and Kitra took my hands, and we spun in a circle until I got dizzy.

"No more, my lady," he said firmly. "Your ankle's still tender."

I dropped on my bed laughing and then thought of something else.

"Do you think I can climb some _stairs?_"

I must have looked so excited that Master Oin grudging agreed. The four of us hurried out the door and went to the first staircase. I had never gone up stairs two at a time. No one else would think it such a big event, but I thought I was ascending to Mahal himself.

"Take tight hold of my hand, my lady," he said firmly. "I don't want you tumbling down."

I felt like a queen walking up the stairs with my head held high. Otha and Kitra whispered encouragement, and I heard many joyful sighs.

"I wish your mother could see this," Otha said wistfully. He turned me around at the top, and I giggled and hugged him hard. Then everyone went quiet. I heard a deep voice at the bottom.

"What is this?" King Thorin asked. I imagined him dressed in his furred robes and rich, royal blue jerkin with a thick sapphire chain around his neck. Kitra had described his attire to me after dinner. She was so enthralled by his finery that she didn't think to tell me what he looked like.

He sounded suspicious, and I swayed on my feet. Master Oin steadied me and put his hand on my shoulder. I assumed that Otha and Kitra had retreated to a safe distance and couldn't be of immediate help. Master Oin cleared his throat and ummed until he got his story together.

"Ah, I'm walking her up and down the stairs to see how she's doing," he called from the top. "True enough if a bit misleading," he muttered under his breath.

"And that's just what I'm doing, Master Oin," I cut in softly. "I'll tell all after I've secured Sky and Summer's safety."

I heard a low grumble at the bottom of the stairs. King Thorin was clearly discussing our behavior with someone else.

Then Master Oin helped me descend step by step, and I looked down like I was worried about tripping. No one would think that odd. He tightened his grip to let me know that we were at the last stair.

"Down you go, my lady," he said for the benefit of our audience. "I think your ankle's almost healed."

I turned to the king who gave himself away by his deep breaths. Little hums of curiosity alerted me to Lord Balin's presence.

"King Thorin, Lord Balin," I said and curtsied deeply. I secretly gloried in the fact that I could do it gracefully and completely. That they didn't know it was my first time made it more of a triumph.

"How are you feeling, Princess Areen?" King Thorin asked slowly.

I could feel him examining me and knew that he sensed something amiss. He didn't know what I was sure, but he was clever. I only hoped I was more so.

"Much better, Your Highness, and I thank you for asking," I said demurely with my eyes on the ground. "It's wonderful to be out and about and in such beautiful surroundings. The wall carvings are stunning."

Ha! Another one of Kitra's detailed descriptions. I dipped my head and kept my eyes on the ground. No one would question my not looking the king in the eye. Court protocol allowed a maiden to avoid eye contact as a sign of modesty. I had thought more than once that perhaps the dwarves who had designed the royal protocols made them for the blind. Even if not, the rules were a big help now. I stood quietly and waited for them to speak.

"We're glad you're on the mend, child," Lord Balin said carefully. "We look forward to seeing you in the morning."

I smiled appropriately and nodded. No doubt they were plotting to gang up on me. However, I had my own flash-fire to lob.

"Will Prince Kili be joining me?"

It seemed that he and I were both playing the same game for different reasons and that King Thorin was in the middle of it all. The shuffling of embarrassed feet clued me in that Prince Kili had won another round.

"Ah, lass," Lord Balin answered with obvious discomfort. "It seems he's taken ill."

I made the proper noises of concern, although what I really wanted to do was laugh so hard that I drooled and tip my cap if I had one to a very clever prince. He was making his feelings obvious to everyone, and there was nothing King Thorin could do about it at the moment. Of course, his nephew was surely going to get a stern talking-to soon, and I wished I could be there to hear it. Lightening and fire indeed!

"Ah, well, please send my best wishes," I replied with a quick curtsy. Master Oin took me by the arm and said that I'd better return to my chambers. He practically ran me back. Otha and Kitra bustled behind.

* * *

Balin turned to Thorin.

"What was that all about?" he asked while scratching his ear.

Thorin looked up the stairs and then turned to stare down the hall where Oin had scurried away with his arms around the princess.

"He acted strangely, and she didn't look up once," he observed with his brow furrowed and his mouth scrunched in unhappy lines.

Balin shrugged. "Well, that's acceptable protocol."

Thorin shook his head.

"I brought her here because of her high spirits and fearlessness, but I don't see _any_ of that."

Waving one hand, Balin dismissed his concerns.

"She might be embarrassed to have come to Erebor in such a state. Besides, Erebor _is _intimidating, and so are you."

But the king wouldn't be put off.

"No, the reports I heard were of a princess who was completely self-assured and unimpressed by wealth and appearances. I'm disappointed, Balin. Kili needs someone who can pull him out of himself, and I was so sure she was the one. The stories the merchants told spoke of a much-loved and adventurous lass. Their stories convinced me, but she isn't anything like that."

Balin hummed.

"Well, somehow she seems to have Oin on her side. He was hiding something for certain, and I have a hunch that she put him up to it. It's a rare one, to be sure, to win the loyalty of one of the company. He's with _her_ on whatever's going on and not with _us._"

Thorin was even more concerned after hearing Balin's observation. It rang true in his gut though he could hardly believe it. How was that _possible?_ Whatever it took, he was going to uncover the truth. _Whatever_ it took. In the meantime, he was going to have a _talk_ with Kili. His nephew may miss breakfast, but he wasn't going to miss the feast tomorrow night. If he didn't show his face, his uncle would order that no food be given to him until he presents himself and acts like a prince of the realm. Thorin reflected grimly that he was acting more like a child. He looked down the hall again and shook his head. Things were not going at all like he planned.

* * *

**Since school's out for the next few weeks, I'll have plenty of time to write, so expect things to really take off in the next chapter! And don't worry. Kili will make his appearance!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Now before anyone jumps to conclusions, Areen isn't with ANYONE yet. There's still a lot more to come before it becomes clear, and it might not until close to the end, so stay with me, folks!**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

I went to sleep with a smile on my face and dreams of dancing up and down the stairs. A dream I didn't dare believe had come true! How I wished mother was here! Oh, and Sella, Tildur, Mebla, and Feron. And Lord Vinn too. Only they could understand my joy. My dreams were sweet indeed until I felt Lord Boron squeezing my leg. I begged him to stop, but he gripped it in both hands and pressed hard. I awoke in the middle of the night with pain lancing my side. Throbbing cramps gripped my shorter leg, and I cried out in the dark. A candle was held to my sweating face. Kitra was terrified.

"Get Master Oin _now_," Otha said to an attendant at the door, and she rummaged through the dresser drawers for the liniment. I held my hand over my mouth to stifle the screams, but I felt like one side of my body was on fire. The poor dwarf must have run all the way because only minutes later, the gray-haired healer was trotting to the door.

"What is it?" he asked Otha. He must have looked over her shoulder to see me because I heard his gasp.

"Lass! Lass! What's wrong?" he asked urgently as he hurried to me.

"This one is the worst I've ever seen," Kitra said anxiously. Otha came up beside her with the bottle. It was half-empty.

"The worst of what?" he demanded.

Otha uncorked the bottle while Kitra pulled my sheets down and my gown up to expose my leg and side. The leg was rigid and couldn't be straightened. My hip had cramped as well, and I couldn't move for the pain.

"We called you, Master Oin, because we have no sedative for her here," Kitra said. "Nothing to relax the muscle cramps but this liniment, and it doesn't work well if we apply it too late."

She turned to her sister who had started to massage the liniment into my muscles. Her hands eased the pain slightly, but the liniment did nothing. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Master Oin sounded stunned.

"We should have rubbed her down after we came back," she said.

"She goes through this every day?" he asked. Then he started pulling bottles and salves out of his pouch. "It's because of the imbalance, isn't it? But balancing her stressed those muscles in a different way, I'll be bound."

A bottle clinked and he murmured his approval.

"Drink this, lass," he said gently. "It'll soothe your pain and put you back to sleep."

My teeth chattered as they tried to position me so I could swallow. I screamed silently when they gently sat me up. My eyes started rolling back in my head, but Master Oin patted my cheeks hard and grabbed my chin.

"One swallow," he commanded, "one swallow, and you'll feel better in a jiffy."

I closed my eyes and opened my mouth like a trout. He held my chin and Otha the back of my head. I was shaking so hard I could barely feel him pouring the liquid in my mouth, but I did my best to choke it down. I felt chill and heat burn my muscles, but Otha kept massaging, and little by little my leg and hip gave way. I started feeling drowsy, and it was bliss. Just before I drifted off, I heard Master Oin talking to my friends.

"She goes through this every night?" he asked, his tone disbelieving.

"Aye," Otha answered. "We heard from her maids at home that she was in agony every night unless she spent the day sitting quietly. But my lady's too curious to stay indoors."

"And she loves going outside because in brighter light she can see colors and shapes," Kitra added. "Why should she stay inside where she's truly blind? It pains her though, and she feels terrible about asking for help. It's almost as though she feels guilty for trying to see."

He grunted in sympathy, and then I felt a rough and callused hand stroking my hair and cheek.

"Sweet, lass," he mumbled. "Sweet, brave lass."

* * *

The next morning, I woke up stiff and sore but otherwise well. Otha guided my fingers to another bottle that Master Oin left.

"This will keep your muscles relaxed during the day, my lady, but it won't make you sleepy," she said. Then she paused. "Master Oin really _is_ your friend now."

I nodded with a smile and got up to bathe. Then I put on my shoes. It seemed strange to walk into the bathing room wearing shoes and a towel, but it felt good to walk in steady. It wouldn't wear off, walking wouldn't. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever. I couldn't wait to see my friends again and walk toward them straight and tall. I imagined that their mouths falling open. I giggled to think of Tildur's eyes popping out or Feron's beard falling off.

After splashing around in the tub and stretching, I dressed in a burgundy gown. Kitra had described it to me, and I felt the neckline and patted it satisfied that I wouldn't expose myself at breakfast. Otha braided and twisted the hair above my ears and let the rest fall naturally. I ran it through my fingers. There was a lot of it, and it felt softer than it did at home. Kitra had given me several bottles and little pots with instructions to use a certain one first and then another one after. I wasn't sure what they were all for because I only had plain cakes of soap at home. I smelled good too. A light rose scent.

"How do I look?" I asked anxiously. I knew that King Thorin and Lord Balin would ask pointed questions on one side of the table while Father and Lord Boron might just answer them on the other. I knew they'd be shocked when they saw me, but I hoped that they'd at least keep their thoughts to themselves. To my surprise, Master Oin came to the door.

"I thought you'd like an escort to the breakfast, my lady," he said. He must have smiled. His voice just sounded like he was smiling. I beamed at him, and he chuckled.

"Why Master Oin, I'd be delighted!"

"Just Oin, my lady," he replied. "I'd be honored if you'd call me by my given name."

I nodded.

"Then just Areen, if you please. None of my friends call me princess."

He hesitated but then grunted his acceptance. Guiding my hand to the crook of his arm, he patted my wrist. Otha and Kitra fell in step behind us, and our little procession made its way to the dining hall. I told him my fears, and he told me that he'd do what he could to prepare father and Lord Boron.

"Let me handle this, lass," he said. "This old healer knows just what to say."

Just before we came to the door, Otha and Kitra hugged me close where no one could see.

"You can do this, my lady," Otha said. I tried to smile and took several deep breaths.

"Areen, Otha. Just Areen, Kitra. No more formalities. We're all in this together."

"Aye, my lady," Kitra said and then giggled at her mistake.

"That will take some getting used to, my … I mean Areen."

The sentry swung the doors open, and I heard chairs being pushed back to stand for me. Father gasped, but then someone quickly rounded the table. I didn't need to guess who.

"My lady, you look beautiful," Lord Boron said, "and so well recovered! Doesn't she look splendid, my lord?"

There was an audible silence that I knew couldn't continue for more than a second before King Thorin and his advisors would _know_ that we were hiding something. Oin stepped in to my eternal gratitude.

"Oh, aye, my lord," he said jovially. "She's much improved, and as long as she doesn't try to scale Erebor, she shouldn't have further problems."

There was general laughter at Oin's jest. I smiled and looked down as usual, but then Lord Boron took my other arm and tugged, so I had to let go of him. I smiled tightly and tried to pull away without anyone noticing, but he only tightened his grip.

"You must sit next to me and tell me what you've done since yesterday," he said. "I'm sure it was _fascinating_."

I acknowledged everyone's well-wishes and heartily hoped that Lord Boron would choke on a dry scone. He stuck to me like a leech, and I've always hated those slimy things. Perhaps they're distant relatives.

After pulling out my chair and insisting on seating me, Lord Boron fixed my plate.

"Is she not allowed to serve herself, Lord Boron?" Lord Balin asked with a definite edge to his voice.

Aye, the probing had begun. I only hoped it was with words and that I wouldn't have to submit to a search.

The leech froze in mid-bacon and chuckled nervously after he plunked the sweets basket in front of me.

"Ah, I have no children, my Lord, so perhaps I dote on her more than I should," he replied, no doubt with an abashed smile. Squat toad of a dwarf was my opinion.

"You're not old enough to have a child her age, Lord Boron," King Thorin too aptly observed.

This conversation was upsetting in a way that made me want to escape. Perhaps they had a garden here with bushes I could hide in—at least until the feast tonight. I felt outnumbered with only Oin, Otha, and Kitra to help me. But I forgot about my rescuer.

"Uncle Thorin, what does it matter?" Prince Fili wanted to know. "She sprained her ankle, he wants to help, so why make it an issue?"

Without waiting for an answer, he turned to me.

"I thank you for your good news last night, my lady," he said happily. "Ah, here they are now. My lady, this is Frerin."

I heard the papping of tiny feet against the stone and turned just in time to feel a small body ram into my legs.

"Oh!" Princess Della cried. "Frerin, mind your way!"

I shook my head and smiled to ease her mind.

"I'm not hurt," I said softly. "Hello, Frerin. I'm Areen. I've come a long way to meet you."

"Meet me?" he burbled jumping up and down.

Before I could answer, he tugged on my skirts and tried to climb into my lap. Without thinking, I hoisted up his heavy little body. He still had that sweet baby smell, and I inhaled and closed my eyes dreamily. Little children have the best smell in all the world, and I can never get enough of it. Then I felt him wrap his chubby arms around my head and press his nose into the corner of one eye.

"Frerin!" Prince Fili said with fond correction. "Stop that at once."

I waved him away and guided his son's small forehead to mine.

"I see you!" he said as he looked at me. Then he tried to suck on my cheek.

"I see you too!" I replied, secretly delighted have the diversion.

When I was done playing with Frerin, father was deep in discussion with Lord Balin while Princess Della was answering King Thorin's question about her health.

I tried to eat while the others were busy on other topics. The bacon and eggs were serviceable, but the breads were dry, and the scones pitiful. The raisins were like little rocks. The basket was almost full, meaning that most of the others had passed it by. I grimaced at the poor offering. If I had any time today for myself, I was heading to the kitchens.

"Good morning," I heard Prince Kili's voice say. All conversation stopped. I ducked my head but smiled slightly in greeting. As far as manners went, he needed to come to me and make amends, but I hoped to congratulate him later.

"Brother!" Prince Fili called out. "Feeling better?"

Prince Kili mumbled something about stomach pains but came over and apologized for his absence. I quelled the urge to tell him to take as long as he wanted—preferably for the next two months. Father made much about his appearing, but Lord Boron was silent. Prince Kili took the chair next to mine and ate some eggs while making little attempt at conversation.

"Are you feeling better, my lord?" I asked politely. I was trying to keep a straight face lest someone notice my delight at his ploy. Then again, they just might think I was flirting. It didn't matter. I was making it through breakfast, and if I could keep it up for six weeks all would be well. Then I heard King Thorin call Oin over.

"So Oin," Lord Balin started. They were talking softly, but I heard every word. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell us about your time with the princess?"

Oin made a noise in the back of his throat.

"Such as what?"

"Such as anything other than her ankle," King Thorin replied as though his patience had stretched parchment-thin.

"Areen is well and whole is all ways that matter," Oin replied firmly. "She's a lovely lass and the bravest I've ever known."

Then he excused himself to tend to other patients.

"In all ways that matter?" Lord Balin echoed. "What does that mean? The bravest I've ever known?"

King Thorin appeared to dismiss that for something else.

"He called her Areen, Balin, just Areen. What does that tell you?"

Balin made an apprehensive sound of understanding.

"It means that he's firmly on her side. How did she do that in such short time? And with one of our own? This isn't good, Thorin. We may have trouble with her being here if she's not what she seems."

His companion mumbled an incoherent thought.

"I don't see what she can do to us," he replied finally, "being such a quiet lass, but we need to watch her regardless."

Oh, that wasn't good. I thought quickly and decided to frequent all the places where royalty wouldn't go. I wanted to see the kitchens anyway, and I couldn't imagine King Thorin peeking through a closet door or Lord Balin hiding in a flour sack. I giggled a little at the thought.

"Is something amusing, my lady?" Prince Kili drawled.

I gasped in surprise. I had forgotten he was there. He sounded so pitiful that I couldn't resist a jest.

"Your advisors are planning on keeping an eye on me for some reason, and I imagined Lord Balin spying on me in the kitchens from a sack of flour."

He spluttered and choked on his eggs. I hoped he wasn't really in trouble, but then he coughed and chuckled with his head down. For the first time, I heard his natural voice.

"_That_ I'd like to see."

Prince Fili called from further down the table.

"Are you dying, brother?"

Before he answered, he turned to me.

"I just might from this food."

I smothered a giggle and kept my head down.

"I'm well, brother."

Then he stood, and I felt him take my hand and kiss it softly.

"I'd be honored with your company after the feast tonight, my lady."

* * *

**Now don't make too much of this. The plot does need to move forward after all. Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**This chapter is for those who enjoy eating. Bon appetit!**

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**Chapter 13**

King Thorin and father decided to spend some time going over what dyes and herbs he and his people might want, and he asked that Fili and Kili join their discussions. It made sense, of course, for his heirs to be part of kingdom business.

Lord Boron—or Lord Bore-on, as I called him in private—sidled up to me after breakfast and suggested taking me around the kingdom like he had become an expert on Erebor since yesterday. My shoes seemed to have given him new energy, and he was obviously eager to ask me about them. Liver and onion breath blew in my face, and I couldn't help wincing. Maybe he wanted me to reveal my ally. It didn't matter what he wanted. I'd never tell on Oin, although anyone with eyes would guess it was him. Father saved me—what a thought!—at the last minute by commanding Lord Bore-on to join the meeting.

"I look forward to spending time with you later, my lady," he whispered. Mahal, did his lips touch my ear? My eyes started watering.

"Not likely," I replied, "since my _intended_ wants to spend time with me."

I never thought I'd hide behind Prince Kili, but liver and onions made up my mind.

Oin joined us outside the door.

"Areen," he said softly, "you need more liniment. I'll have a bottle sent up to your chambers at once. It'll be marked for Kitra."

Otha cleared her throat, and he gently squeezed my arm. Someone had joined us.

"My lady," Lord Balin said, "what do you plan to do for the rest of the day?"

I looked down and bit my lip. My day was already planned, but he couldn't know that.

"Do you have any suggestions, my lord?"

He came closer, and I stilled the urge to hide my face in Oin's neck. I heard my maids move in, and I flicked my eyes up and down. This shy act was getting tiresome after only three days. I hated having to hide not just my blindness but myself as well. Diplomacy was the art of lying politely, and I was never very good at it.

"We have lovely gardens on the lower slopes," he said genially, "and the art and sculpture galleries are spectacular. Much to admire there. I'd be honored to show you."

Ugh! That was the _worst _place I could possibly see. I smiled faintly at my own pun.

"It's settled then," he replied clapping his hands and rubbing them together. Not good. Not good at all, but I couldn't think of what to do. Then door opened, and King Thorin took his nephew's place as my noble rescuer.

"Balin," Kili said, "uncle wants you to join us."

My shoulders wanted to sag in relief, but I held myself upright, and I hoped that everyone else did too. That old dwarf was one quick codger, and he didn't stop assessing us until the door closed. Even then I bet he was listening behind it. Oin whispered for us to follow him, and we practically tip-toed away.

Otha and Kitra agreed heartily with my idea to visit the kitchens. I guess they didn't eat well either. I could feel myself losing plumpness, and I couldn't allow that lest those horrid necklines gape open. It would be a catastrophe if my bosom derailed negotiations. Ha! Then again, it might speed them along. Oin guided us partway and gave Otha directions for the rest.

"Mind Master Slif," he said. "He's prickly about others being in his kitchens and offends easily. You know how cooks are. Thorin Oakenshield may reign in Erebor, but Slif is king in the kitchens."

I smiled, but I didn't care how prickly he was. I was still hungry and that trumped prickly. I asked Kitra to get my bag of spices and herbs. A bribe was a better form of diplomacy when properly applied.

Once she came back with it, we headed to an upper level in the back. I suppose the kitchen was put there partly so the royal family and nobles were served first, but that didn't mean their food was better. Sometimes, letting food simmer and brown deepened the flavor. I had a feeling that the workers ate better than their king.

We walked up the stairs and turned the corner to hear an angry voice yelling at frightened voices in the room beyond.

"The eggs half-eaten and the breads basket barely touched. This is a disaster! Begone from my sight! I'll deal with you all later."

We ventured carefully toward the door and suddenly a pan—at least I thought it was a pan—hurtled by our noses and clanged against the wall.

"What was that?" I asked.

"A sauce pot," Kitra answered. She took my arm and started kicking other copper pots and pans aside. It seemed that most of his cookware had taken refuge in a little pile outside the door.

"How many?" I asked.

"Mmm, four pots, three pans, and three baking trays."

I set my face toward the source of noise. I imagined a small, stout dwarf with flame-red hair and a big, red nose on a big, red face. Even if his face wasn't usually red, it most certainly was now.

"Get out of here! Get out of _my_ kitchens! Who do you think you are barging in here?"

I remembered what Oin said about him but, really, this was taking it a bit far.

"Do I not look like a princess?" I mumbled out of the side of my mouth to Otha who squeezed my hand. I never cared much for rank since it never made anyone a better person but, in this case, I'd trot it out and give it some air.

Angry footsteps stomped our way.

"I _said_, stay _out!_"

Nope. Not happening. I stood as tall as I could and looked down where I felt an angry snort on my chin.

"I am the Princess Areen of the Grey Mountains, and if you want the feast tonight to be the triumph of your life then you will do as I say."

I thought the stones under his feet would crack from the heat he puffed out. Of course, he couldn't say what I was sure he wanted to, but I felt like I was facing a miniature Smaug. Maybe they used his breath to light the ovens.

"Your bread basket came down full, did it?" I asked quickly before he threw another pot. "How would you like that _never_ to happen again?"

The temperature dropped _maybe_ one degree. I waved my hand, and Kitra opened the bag and started pulling out spices wrapped in parchment. The fresh scent of rosemary filled the air. He took a step forward, and I heard him sniffing like a dog after a bone. A clatter told me that he had dropped whatever it was he had intended to throw.

"Master Slif," I said with a relieved exhale, "I'd be willing to share what I have if you'd let me lend a hand in your kitchens today."

Feet shifted from side to side, and I heard a strange sound like dry straw being rubbed together.

"What's that noise?" I whispered in Otha's ear.

"He's rubbing his eyebrows," Otha whispered back.

"Oh, my."

Of course, a princess in the kitchen was a breach of protocol, but no one would spy on me here. I rummaged in the bag and pulled out my secret weapon, a lumpy package. I unrolled it and held out a large bulb. Its pungent but tangy scent sent its tendrils under what I imagined were his abnormally large nostrils.

"What is _that?_" he whispered, both entranced and suspicious.

I waved it back and forth. I didn't imagine his lips smacking loudly.

"At home they call it the stinky rose, Master Slif, but when it's cut up and sautéed, it would make Mahal himself leave his realm for a bite."

No one moved, and I knew he was weighing his present humiliation against his pride of accepting help.

"Imagine the compliments of the royal family being whispered throughout Erebor," I said. "Why do you think King Thorin wants to trade with my people?"

He took a deep breath and grabbed my hand.

"Well, lass, what you doing just standing there?" he asked impatiently. "No time for loitering! We've work to do!"

We laughed and nodded happily. With my maids helping me, I was sure all would be well.

"What a splendid kitchen, Master Slif," Otha exclaimed. "I'm sure it's not your cooking skills that are the issue but rather not having the right supplies. Good spices are rare I'm sure because of Smaug."

Kitra's giggle told me that he preened like a plump pigeon.

"Oh, aye, lass," he said proudly. "Now just tell me what you have there."

Thick hands ushered me to the herbs table, and I hoisted the heavy bag on the top and unrolled the different packages. I heard his eager breath at both the quality and quantity of our wares. I swear he did a jig of glee.

"Oh! Oh! What is this? What is _that?_ Oh! So fragrant and fine. Where do we start, my lady?"

I was so carried away by the smells of home that I wasn't careful and made no attempt to appear like I could see. Kitra and Otha made their little signals, but I missed them. Suddenly, I heard a long, shuddering breath, and I knew it didn't come from us.

"You're _blind!_"

I noticed he didn't say, my lady. Not a good sign.

"Aye," I replied calmly, "from a fever when I was nine."

His hand slammed on the table.

"Weak blood to mix with our royal house! This is an outrage!"

"No! _Strong_ blood to survive when others died!"

His voice rose with contempt and outrage. His attitude wasn't new. Many others had thought the same long ago. I'd forgotten how horrible it made me feel.

"Cursed! Cursed by Mahal himself!"

Now I had had enough.

"Blessed! Blessed by Mahal to smell better than anyone in Middle Earth!"

There! I had done it. Now he would either throw me out the door or accept me. I bobbled the stinky rose before him.

"By the way, _cook_," I said with cool disdain, "you just burned your cream sauce."

With a yelp, he ran down the length of his kitchen to reach the hearth at the far end. I heard frantic noises, but I knew he couldn't save it. The burned flavor would carry through.

"Now it's your choice," I said. "Do you think I'm a curse or a blessing from Mahal himself to make you the most revered cook in history?"

I knew I was buttering the bread rather thickly, but I needed a safe place, and he needed my help. I heard him grumble and curse under his breath. He angrily rattled the chains that held his pots suspended over the fire.

"It clotted, didn't it?" I asked. "You put it too close to the fire."

His grumbling grew louder.

"I'm not a witch, Master Slif. I just like to eat. Surely, you can't fault me for that?"

At first I didn't hear anything, and then came those strange scratches again. He chuckled a little and sighed.

"Ach, my lady," he began, "Mahal's ways are above ours, so perhaps he did send you after all."

"Aye, well said, Master Slif," I applauded.

His thick and now gentle fingers guided me to a table.

"I'd be honored if you called me Slif, my lady," he said softly. "If you're going to help me in the kitchens, then you deserve to."

I nodded happily.

"Areen then, just Areen."

* * *

The rest of the afternoon we cooked and laughed and traded stories. It was wonderful, and I felt cozy for the first time since leaving home. Just put me in a kitchen, and I'll purr like a kitten.

Not too much later, I was sure I was dusted with flour, and I felt something rough on my cheek. The kitchen smelled divine though.

"What do you have planned for tonight, Slif?"

He didn't answer at first, and I had to call him away from the oven.

"They're not done yet!"

A loud set of sniffs told me that he was rooted to the floor in front of the ovens.

"So you boil dried raisins and currents for just a minute or so to make them softer?" he asked wonderingly. "And you then add cream to the batter? Mmm, with fennel seeds at that. A little soda and hmmm."

I thought he'd float away to the Halls of Mandos on the aroma alone. He must have danced like a child before the oven door because Kitra admonished him to wait. Once the breads were done, he pulled them out with eager breaths. He must have crammed an entire cake into his mouth because I couldn't understand a word he said.

"Immortal!" he cried at last.

"What meats are you planning to serve?"

He led me over to a large roast. Otha brought me chopped herbs and a few cloves of the stinky rose mixed with a little oil to make a paste. I felt my way around the roast and made several deep slits. Slif made a noise of protest, but I explained that if he stuffed the slits with the paste and rubbed the rest on the outside, it would flavor the meat. Otha brought over a little of the paste mixed with oil, and I invited him to taste it with piece of bread. He savored it with little grunts of pleasure.

"I could die now a happy dwarf!" he marveled.

"And miss your praise?" I asked archly. He laughed and ate the rest. I don't think I got a bite, but I was too relieved to care.

Working together, we made all my favorites including mashed squash with butter and molasses, little cabbage spouts roasted with rosemary and stinky rose cloves, and cabbage with bacon. For dessert, we made a blueberry cake with cinnamon crumble topping, lemon and raspberry scones with lemon icing, and caramel apples.

"Be careful, Slif," I warned. "You could lose a tooth on one of those!"

"Oh!" Otha cried. "Look at the time!"

I was sure she wasn't talking to _me_, but I looked around anyway, trying to spot a clock in the dark.

"You must dress for the feast, Areen!" Kitra said.

I patted my cheeks, felt the dried batter, and was sure I looked a fright. Slif turned me around carefully and wiped my face with a warm cloth while my maids brushed off my dress and picked bits of dough out of my hair. I felt him pat my cheek.

"There, love," he said. "Back to a princess."

Then he took my hand.

"You need to tell them, but I understand why you're waiting."

He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Until then, I'll keep your secret, Areen."

I held his face.

"Thank you, Slif. That means the world to me."

Another voice broke in, and I mentally groaned.

"What secret?" Lord Balin asked.

* * *

**Garlic, that wonderful thing, was called the stinky rose and, when mixed with rosemary, basil, and olive oil, makes a wonderful dipping sauce. The raisins, cream, and fennel seed bread is a loose description of Irish soda bread. Can you tell _I_ like good food? Happy Holidays and please review! They would be wonderful Christmas presents!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello again and welcome new readers. How lovely to have you with us. Everyone's thoughts and comments are welcome as we move forward!**

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**Chapter 14**

_"What secret?" Lord Balin asked._

Sigh. So, I guess they decided to spy on me from a sack of flour after all. Humph, now I had _nowhere_ to hide except the privy, and I wasn't even sure I'd be safe there. Would they have maids listening in and reporting back? How embarrassing! Grrr, this was getting ridiculous! No, this _was_ ridiculous! They should be spying on father and Lord Bore-on, Lord Boast-on, Lord Beast-on. I felt my cheeks getting hot, but I couldn't tell at first if the heat was from embarrassment or anger. Hmm, uh, huh, definitely anger. Otha and Kitra cleared their throats, but I ignored them. I turned to face Lord Balin, ready to speak my mind, when Slif stepped in front and bowed low. I heard his voice from somewhere close to the floor.

"My Lord Balin," he said, "what an honor. "The Princess Areen brought some spices as a gesture of good will but didn't want anyone to know. She was concerned they might be seen as a bribe."

_Liar._ It seemed like Erebor was stuffed with them. Father and Lord Boron should feel right at home. No, that was unkind and unfair. Oin and Slif were honorable, loyal, and wonderful. I was just angry and frustrated that they were on to me but not on to father and Lord Boron. That the Lord of the Grey Mountains—the one who's in _charge_ of me mind you—put me up to it hadn't crossed their minds. Why not? Did they think _I_ was the mastermind of this deceit? I supposed I should have been flattered, but it was too twisted to be funny.

"Ah," Lord Balin said slowly, "how thoughtful."

He didn't believe us. Distrust filled his undertone. What did they think I'd do? Poison the water supply or make off with treasure? I imagined myself hauling sacks of gold over my shoulders out the enormous gate while hiding the Arkenstone down the front of my dress. All in full view of King Thorin's armed guards. Laughable, really.

"My _lady_," Kitra said deliberately, "we must help you dress for the feast."

"Of course, Kitra, you're quite right," I replied graciously. "I musn't keep my lords waiting."

I turned to Slif, and he took my hands. We had spent such a wonderful, aromatic afternoon that I couldn't help myself and moved in to give him a hug. He must have felt the same because he rocked me like a young child.

"It's been my _very_ great pleasure, Areen," he said warmly. "You and your ladies are welcome in my kitchens anytime. Do visit again soon."

I smiled so wide that I thought I'd pushed my dimples against my ears. He was such a dear. I wouldn't have known that from my reception at the door, but I was delighted to find out different.

"It was my honor, Slif," I said while holding his caked hands. "I can't _wait_ for the feast," and we laughed together.

Lord Balin made a series of small hums, grunts, and mumbles while we talked. I've heard people make those noises when they were calculating sums, but I never heard anyone make them while someone else was talking. I guess what we said just didn't add up for Lord Balin. I didn't care. We marched out the door and turned the corner. I soon as Otha and Kitra told me we were out of earshot, I said what I wanted to—in a whisper, of course.

"Do they mean to follow me everywhere?" I asked. It was a rhetorical question. They were already following me everywhere. I only hoped they wouldn't be this bold when I was with Prince Kili. That would be too much. I remembered my efforts to control my temper and mouth at home, but everyone had their breaking point. I knew father's; I had no idea of Lord Boron's, and I was even doubtful of my own. Summer and Sky kept me in check, and I repeated their names like a charm every time I felt my temper rising.

We walked back to my chambers, so I could change. I was slightly embarrassed that I didn't have more gowns for evening wear, but I should be grateful that I had even two. I had no idea what King Thorin and his court expected.

"Do they wear different clothes every night?" I asked timidly. I know that father and his lackey brought at least two trunks full of clothes for themselves while I had only two day dresses, two blouse and skirt sets, and two evening gowns. Oh, and my split skirt for riding. That selection seemed pitiful compared to the magnificence the Durins and others must be wearing.

"Well," Otha said carefully, "they do have different combinations of clothes every evening, but not everything is different. King Thorin wore the same breeches but with different tunics."

Small consolation.

"But you have other clothes you can wear, Areen," Kitra said. "The porters just brought up a separate trunk that we thought belonged to Lord Boron."

That was a surprise and a relief. I felt like every word and every action was momentous and had to weighed carefully—something at which I was terrible. Here I was walking on a crust of frozen snow that might cave into the thick powder beneath at any moment. I loved walking on snow crusts at home where we'd bet how long we could walk atop before it collapsed. Feron, Mebla, Tildur, and I would laugh ourselves silly after we picked ourselves up, each of us looking like living snow dwarves from the drifts. What lay under the crust here though might be shards of ice that would slice me to pieces.

"What's in it?" I asked, now very curious.

Kitra and Otha unlocked the case, lifted the lid, and gasped.

"Oh, Areen!" Kitra said. "It's a beautiful, blood-red velvet gown. The design is gorgeous and so different from anything else I've seen."

They brought it to me, and I felt along the seams to the bodice. It felt strange, and I kept running my hands over it until I understood. The dress was designed like a peasant blouse with corset and flaring skirt, except it was all of one piece. The sleeves were full, and the deeply scooped neckline had a satin drawstring with an open keyhole slit in the front. The bodice was designed to make the most of my bust with the fullness taken up by the corset below.

"I don't see how I can wear my under-corset with this dress," I said doubtfully. "The shoulders are almost to the edge. This dress is much less structured. Will it look improper, do you think?"

They didn't answer. Kitra reached back into the trunk and gasped.

"Oh, Areen!" she cried. "What a beautiful satin nightgown."

She handed it over, and I felt the sleek fabric slip through my fingers.

"There's three!"

"What colors?" I asked. Where on Middle-earth did these come from?

"One's pure white," Kitra replied breathlessly, "another is red, and the third is black."

I blushed to my hairline. One was obviously for my wedding night and the others for days after. Mother must have had this packed, but I couldn't figure out how she paid for it. I knew she didn't have the household funds for such extravagance, not when so many were going hungry.

"There's more!" Otha exhaled, and I heard the rustle of fabric and clink of metal. "Oh!"

"What? What is it?"

"A blood-red ruby on a gold chain," Kitra said.

Now I was confused. Who would have done this? Lord Vinn? No, he didn't have such tastes. Father was out of the question. I doubted now that mother arranged it.

"We must get you dressed now, Areen," Otha said firmly. "It's nearly time."

By the time I was dressed, it was too late to change. Otha and Kitra both said I looked wonderful, but I could tell that _wonderful_ meant something different than it usually did. I patted myself all over and sucked in my breath. I remembered seeing a barmaid once, and she wore a similar outfit where the sleeves nearly fell off her shoulders. Her bosom was clearly outlined under her thin blouse.

"Do I look like a … a, you know?" I couldn't get the words out.

"It's not indecent," Otha said firmly. "The velvet is heavy. You aren't used to playing up your assets is all."

I shivered in this monstrosity. Playing up my assets was the _last_ thing I wanted to do. I never wanted to be looked at, never wanted to be noticed. I had no defense against someone leering at me. I had no way of knowing and so no way to stand up for myself. Would everyone at the feast know that I wore no under-corset and that my bust wasn't supported? I closed my eyes in humiliation. Mother would never have done such a thing, but I couldn't be late and insult the king.

"Can you tell?" I asked. "Can you see my, uh, too much of me?"

They both said no but, after seeing my devastation, Kitra stepped up and pulled the lacing as tight as she could. She almost but not quite closed the keyhole opening where my cleavage showed through clearly. I felt up to my shoulders and pulled the sleeves closer to my neck. Then I pulled the dress up to cover more of my bosom. I hoped it wouldn't slide down during dinner, but it was the best I could hope for. Otha adjusted a wrap around me. My eyes must have shown my relief because she gave me a quick hug. They pulled out the braids and left most of my hair in loose waves. They kept the twin braids at my temples in honor of the Durins.

"You do look wonderful without the wrap, not at all improper," she said, "but we won't have you feeling uncomfortable."

I nodded gratefully. I stood quietly while she put the necklace on, and then I pulled up the front of the dress again. They escorted me to the hall, whispering words of encouragement. The doors opened, and I stepped in and smiled brightly. I heard nothing, _nothing_. Was the feast moved to another chamber? Then I heard some rustling, and I stood there mortified with my cheeks flaming and still smiling like an idiot. All at once I heard an explosion of sound, and everyone talked at once. Various lords introduced themselves and gave their best wishes. Prince Fili called out his compliments and teased his brother by saying that his mouth hit the floor when I walked in. Little Prince Frerin said, "Pincess Reen!" Lord Balin and King Thorin seemed to resume whatever conversation they were having while Della gushed over my harlot dress. Father grunted, but I wasn't sure why.

"Princess Areen, you look just marvelous," Lord Boron exclaimed, "but you must be too warm in that wrap. Here, let me take that for you."

He stood and approached me, but someone cut him off.

"My lady," a steady voice said, "may _I_ escort you to your seat?"

It was Prince Kili, and I was ever so glad. I heard Lord Boron huff—probably from embarrassment at being one-upped by my somewhat fiancé. I smiled widely at the gallant prince and was surprised to feel his hand at my back as he ushered me to my seat.

"I thank you, my lord," I said quietly. Inside I was thrilled at being free of that toad. If he touched me again with his sweaty fingers, I swore I'd wipe my hands on my skirt in front of everyone.

I heard a quiet exhale and a sense of hesitation. Then I felt him lean closer.

"Lord Boron seems a bit too attentive for your taste, my lady," he replied. "I don't want you feeling put upon or uncomfortable in my house."

Well, that was surprising! I gave a happy sigh and was rewarded by a low chuckle.

"But he isn't wrong, my lady," he said with his head close to mine, "you _do_ look marvelous."

* * *

Thorin and Balin conferred at the head of the table with their elbows almost touching.

"He not only let her in his kitchens, Thorin," Balin said in a hushed voice, "but he allowed her to stay and cook with him! She called him Slif, and he called her Areen! I've never heard the like. He's never, and I mean never, allowed anyone to share his space before now since old Nimrin died. Besides, what princess would stoop to cook in the kitchens? _And_ he said he'd keep her secret, and I could tell it _wasn't_ about herbs."

Thorin stroked his beard. She was strange, this Princess Areen. Without doing or saying much, she seemed to command the loyalty of everyone around her. Oin first and now Slif. Thorin shook his head in confusion. Both those dwarves were loyal to the bone to the House of Durin. He knew it beyond a doubt. When then caused Slif to act so unlike himself?

He looked over to see Kili whispering to her. He watched for awhile with his lips pressed together tightly. Perhaps bringing her here was a bad idea after all. The merchants all spoke of her like she was a delightful bouquet of wildflowers, but she seemed now like a creeping vine that could break apart rock if given enough time. Her entrance tonight struck the dwarrow dumb. Whomever made that dress had designed it to showcase her every curve in a natural way and not in the stiff and formal manner of most court dress. Her hair fell around her in heavy waves, and her braids matched his own. He shifted uncomfortably. Was she there to influence negotiations in her favor? He took a long drink of cold ale.

* * *

The door opened again, and servers came through with platters that had everyone exclaiming with delight at the aromas. I was so excited that I forgot my worry about my dress. Slif must have arranged the food beautifully too because I heard a number of lovely comments about how it looked. I sniffed the air and clapped with joy at his triumph. I imagined all the praise he'd receive, and I bit my lip in happy anticipation of a glorious dinner. This time I could eat in blissful peace. No one spoke much after the food was served, but I wasn't nervous. All I heard were the happy grunts and moans of dwarves chewing, scraping their plates, and passing platters back and forth. All Slif's dishes were praised, and I was particularly gratified to hear King Thorin ask for a fourth helping of the roast.

"By Durin, uncle," Prince Fili said with a satisfied air, "I don't remember _ever_ eating this well. I think we should bring Slif up here to tell him."

King Thorin agreed and sent a servant to fetch him. Then Lord Balin turned and addressed the assembly.

"Perhaps we should thank Princess Areen as well since she spent the afternoon in his kitchens," he said with a questioning tone in his voice.

The room erupted with shocked exclamations.

I dropped my eyes and exhaled sadly at the general outburst. My stomach went sour as I listened to the comments of the various lords. Most were just surprised at first, but they voiced their disapproval soon enough. This time, father wasn't quiet.

"What have you done?" he criticized from his place.

I tried to answer, but I choked on my tears.

"Answer me!" he yelled. "Answer me, you foolish child!"

I was sure that Lord Balin didn't intend to cause a scene, or at least not the scene that was rapidly developing, but it was too late despite his efforts to tamp it down. Advisors and lords all weighed in with their exalted opinions of my unseemly behavior. Weighed in _loudly_. Just then a servant announced Slif, and he walked through the door to pandemonium. King Thorin must have put up his hands because the room quieted quickly.

"Slif," he began, "I called you up here to congratulate you on your exquisite fare this evening. I don't know when we've eaten so well, and I thank you on behalf of all here."

The grumbling reduced to hushed whispers. Slif bowed low and expressed his gratitude for the king's favor, but it was obvious that he had heard enough outside the door.

"My lord," he said carefully, "_I_ must thank the Princess Areen for her gift of spices and herbs from the Grey Mountains. She gave them to me in thanks for preparing extra food for her people and even shared some recipes that would make her father and Lord Boron feel more at home. My king, I've never seen finer herbs and spices in all my life, both in quality and variety. If you come to an agreement with her father, then I can swear that you'll eat this well for the rest of your life."

Dead silence filled the hall. I tried not to sniffle and ignored the tears in my eyes. Footsteps came closer, and Slif took my hand and bowed so that his forehead touched it.

"My lady, I have a gift for you outside if you'll permit me."

I smiled tightly and allowed him to take my arm and leave the room. He pulled me away into the next hall and hugged me. I burst into tears and sobbed on his shoulder.

"They follow me, Slif, they follow me and will twist everything I say and do. I can't live here, and I can't leave. They hate me; they _hate_ me! _And_ I ruined your big moment!"

He patted my shoulder and lifted my chin.

"Now, none of that. You didn't ruin anything, lass," he said kindly. He lent me his handkerchief, and I blew my nose. "No one hates you. They know you're hiding something, and you are, so you can't fault them there. King Thorin is a good and honorable dwarf, but he's also protective and careful. You can hardly blame him now, can you? Not where his family's concerned anyway. Besides, you've fought and won bigger battles, Areen. Now buck up, lass, and go back in there like the general of an army. Soon enough they'll come 'round."

He walked me back to the door. Something had shifted in the meantime, and we heard two strong voices shouting the others down. He chuckled and rubbed his brows. I had the sound down pretty well by then.

"Well, general," he said with amusement, "I believe your captains have declared themselves."

We weren't embarrassed to listen in at the crack.

"How _dare_ you treat a guest of ours so disrespectfully?" Prince Fili shouted. "_And_ after the best feast of our lives!"

Slif rubbed my back as I pushed away a new round of tears.

"There, lass, there. You see? It'll be all right."

Then we heard Prince Kili.

"I don't care if she goes down there every day if she chooses," he called out to the rest. "It's my concern now, not yours! Not _ever!_"

We heard pounding footsteps heading for the door and quickly moved away. Prince Kili came storming out and walked up to me.

"I apologize, my lady, for the behavior of my people," he said. Then he made a noise of concern, and I felt a finger touch my still-wet cheek. "I'm truly sorry. They had no right."

I nodded and tried to smile. I appreciated his support more than I could tell him, but I was still worried about the reaction of one dwarf in particular.

"I think it's time we talk, my lady," he said, and he took my hand. "We have some lovely gardens that are peaceful in the evening, and I think we could use some of that now."

Slif hummed his approval and turned to leave, but the prince stopped him.

"You should have been honored tonight, Slif, but I won't let it pass and neither will uncle," he said. "He wants to speak to you now and give you your due."

Slif bowed again and went back inside. Prince Kili pulled on my arm, but I held fast.

"My father?" I asked fearfully. "He … he…."

Prince Kili turned and held me by my shoulders. I wouldn't look him in the eye even if I had my sight. It was too humiliating.

"Don't fear, my lady, Balin is trying to smooth everything over. I don't know what he intended by all this, but after we talk and I take you to your chambers, I'm going to find out."

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**Please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Oh, my goodness! Your response to this story is thrilling! Thank you so much! I try to respond to everyone in person, and I always love hearing from readers, so type away! If you haven't heard from me yet, you will!**

**To 2002Cinderheart: I'm not sure what you meant about me making the story easier to read, but I'd be happy to answer any questions you have. ****Things are now in motion, and everyone will find out a little bit more. Have fun, and a safe and Happy New Year!**

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Thorin looked around at the empty room and sighed. His own nephews had more honor and manners than he did at that moment. Balin meant well but had gone too far. He should have stopped it, stopped it much sooner than he did. They were _so_ convinced that Princess Areen had some dire secret that they tried to shame her into revealing it. While the others kept their faces close to their plates and shoveled in the deliciously spiced and succulent food, he had watched her carefully when she wasn't looking. She seemed so happy at the beginning of the feast and genuinely enjoyed the food. Each dainty mouthful was followed by the slightest shiver of her shoulders. Her eyes closed while she chewed like a kitten lifting its face to the sun. Thorin watched enthralled. He'd never seen anyone take _that_ much pleasure in a meal. Then again, he'd never eaten so well. If that was what she ate everyday at home, then he could well understand her reactions.

Despite her obvious delight though, she reserved her largest and most excited smile for Slif. He had cocked his head and watched her face light up in anticipation of praise for the not-quite-yet cook. She seemed sincerely happy for him. Despite his doubts, he couldn't help a small smile playing about his mouth. Then Balin's words extinguished her joy like fingers pinching a wick. Her head dropped, and Thorin swore he saw her eyes filling with tears. She sat quietly through the barrage and didn't say a word in her defense. He leaned his mouth on his fist, waiting for some anger, some defiance, _something_ that might give her away, but nothing. Nothing except deep sorrow and mortification.

Slif knew it too. Thorin wagered that there wasn't any gift waiting outside the door. He wanted to take her away from her humiliation with as little fuss and as much grace as possible. She stood elegantly and left quietly with insults following her out the door.

Thorin groaned and put his hands over his eyes. Fili told Della to take Frerin to bed and rounded the table. He and his brother stood side by side furiously defending her. Somehow she'd gained two more allies, but this time their uncle was the one who pushed them firmly into her camp. They would have stood against any who dared treat a lady or guest in such a fashion as would he had he not given into his suspicions.

"That didn't go the way we thought, did it?" Balin said out the side of his mouth, his face sagging with regret.

Thorin shook his head. What was most painful was her father's response. The Lord of the Grey Mountains did nothing to defend his daughter but instead denounced her with the others. Was he only embarrassed or did he treat her like that always? His stomach turned at the possibility. If so, then perhaps her _father _ordered her to keep the secret if there even was one. He dragged his hand down his face slowly. Whatever the truth was, the night was an utter disaster, and he could only blame himself. He, Thorin Oakenshield, demanded that she leave her home only to be insulted and tormented in his. His lifted his weary eyes to face his angry nephew.

"Would you both care to tell me what _that_ was about?" he asked with his hands on his hips. "Uncle, how could you? What do you suspect her of that you'd treat her that way? I'm ashamed—ashamed!—of our house." Then he aimed his sharpest barb. "If I were her I'd leave as fast as I could with the next caravan—any caravan. I might just join her with Della and _Frerin._"

Balin held up his hands in surrender.

"We erred, lad," he said to Fili's angry face. "Aye, we did. She's keeping some secret, and we tried to rattle her tonight, but it was inexcusable for us to do what we did, and we're sorry—aren't we, Thorin?"

He nodded. She _was_ keeping something from them, but it was nothing compared to what they had just done. Besides, h_e_ had things of his own that he preferred to keep to himself. Perhaps she was entitled to her secrets—as long as they didn't hurt Kili or his kingdom.

"I'll go and apologize," he said heavily. "She deserves it."

* * *

Holding my arm fast to his side, Prince Kili led me across a corridor and down a narrow flight of stairs. I felt my leg cramp even more, but I tried to act calmly even though I wanted to collapse in a heap and cry myself to sleep wherever I dropped. I couldn't bear another night like this one. If this was going to be their treatment of me every night, then I hoped Feron would come sooner than he promised.

I felt Prince Kili squeeze my hand like he felt my turmoil. My flayed nerves sent little jolts of nausea to my stomach. We'd never been alone before, and my maids could only go with me so far before they had to return to my chambers and prepare them for the evening. He stopped and whispered a few words of Khuzdul. A small door opened, and I felt a blast of warm air filled with the blended scents of flowers. My nose led me the rest of the way. Roses. Daisies. Gardenias. _Lilies. _Ah_, _smells of the meadows of home_. _He must have heard my excited breath because he laughed and walked me over to a bench. Otha and Kitra bade me goodnight and left. I was grateful for the darkness and sat on my hands to keep from fidgeting. Then another cramp stung my thigh. I pushed on my leg with one hand to try and knead it out. He must have lit several oil lamps nearby because I heard the _pfft_ of matches being struck. They wouldn't help me see, but I could find my way well enough by using the scent of the flowers to guide me back out.

"Does this please you, princess?" he asked.

I could tell he had relaxed, and I sighed in relief. It was a _most_ welcome change.

"Areen, my lord," I said. "I'm not worthy of my title."

He snorted with surprise.

"What makes you think that?"

Then he caught himself.

"If you think that tonight shows what my people think of you …."

I ran my hands over my face.

"It does, doesn't it? But it hardly matters now. I thank you though for standing up for me."

He patted my hand.

"You've done nothing for me to act otherwise."

Was it my imagination, or did the air turn a tad chilly? Perhaps it was the icy grip of guilt. I couldn't imagine what else could go wrong, but I had a horrible feeling that tonight was just the beginning—at least until Feron came. That father reveled in my public flogging wasn't new, but it just added to the crushing weight in my heart. That Lord Boron tried to defend me—even though no one paid attention—made matters worse.

We sat awkwardly. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, and then he cleared his throat.

"I must be honest with you … Areen," he said as though he had to force the words out, "I resented uncle bringing you here without asking me. He's been wanting me to marry, but I …."

"Don't want to?" I finished for him. "At least not to someone who's forced on you."

I felt him twisting to find a comfortable position and tried to ease his mind. I owed him that after he stood against the king to help me.

"I knew that from the moment I met you, and I'm grateful that you've treated me well in spite of it."

He jerked with surprise.

"How could you tell?" he asked with youthful curiosity.

I giggled. It was so obvious that he might as well have shouted it from the mountain's peak.

"Your first words to me were filled with such resentment that it leaked out and made puddles on the floor."

He gasped and then laughed loudly.

"I suppose they were," he said with good humor. "And you? What do you think of this?"

I sat quietly and tried to gather my thoughts, but they ran faster than I could catch them. If I couldn't be honest about my leg and eyes, I would darn well be honest about everything else.

"I came because father ordered me to," I started, "so I'm in the same position as you. I thought though that marrying you might secure help for my people because they're in need. Father made some unsound investments, so we need this trade agreement. But you don't want me here. No, don't deny it. I understand. Lord Vinn's son Feron offered to take me away and marry me if this didn't work out, so I'll be cared for by someone who loves me. We've been best friends since we were children, so don't worry for me."

There it was, my whole ugly situation. I just hoped that Prince Kili wouldn't think father as unfit as he was. He seemed deep in thought.

"I see," he said slowly. "So he is coming for you. When? When the first shipment comes?"

I nodded.

He grunted and then fell silent.

You and your father …" he began, trying to be sensitive.

"He hates me," I said bluntly. "I'm a great disappointment to him, my lord."

He must have shaken his head because I heard hair swishing.

"Just Kili … Areen. Why does he hate you?"

I was past caring what anyone thought of me at that point. Sky and Summer, Sky and Summer. I still had to be careful, but one day … one day I would let it all go. I only hoped I'd rage at some rock or poor, unfortunate bush.

"Mother lost many babes, and he hardened his heart as time went by. I had some, uh, troubles when I was born, so he rejected me as well."

I heard the swish again.

"That's silly," he said incredulously.

"Not to him," I answered flatly, "and he's let me know _every_ day of my life."

Then I heard the sound of the door opening quietly. I couldn't tell if it was just well-maintained or if someone wanted to remain unheard. Too bad. I heard him.

"Someone else is here," I said dully. "Again," I muttered under my breath.

I felt Kili whip around.

"Who's there?" he called out sharply.

We were rewarded—if one could call it that—by a deep voice answering, the voice of the king.

I jumped to my feet and curtsied. At least he wasn't hiding in the hydrangeas.

"Uncle? What are _you_ doing here?"

A _very_ reasonable question, I thought. But, of course, I already knew the answer.

Kili stood and asked to speak to the king alone. They went off into the bushes—a thought that would make me laugh if the night hadn't been so horrible—and talked or rather Kili talked.

"Why did you deliberately demean Areen like that, uncle? What a _wonderful_ start you've made for us! She's leaving as soon as her best friend comes with the first shipment, and I wouldn't blame her if she hid in her chambers until then."

I heard the king ask who "he" was, and Kili answered impatiently. Then I heard their footsteps coming toward me, and I cringed.

King Thorin stood in front of me and said nothing. The light was poor for him as well, but I felt his eyes studying me, perhaps trying to figure me out. That must have been his reason for staring at me so long. I stood firm.

He took a deep breath. It felt like he had just sucked all the air out of the garden. Then he surprised me by taking my hand and placing a very soft kiss on it. His hairy face tickled my hand. I itched to grab his beard and yank hard, but I ducked my head instead.

"My lady, I want to apologize for what happened tonight," he said formally. "Lord Balin never intended to cause you discomfort, and I regret not stepping in sooner. I should have. I'm deeply sorry that you were treated so badly. It _won't_ happen again."

I nodded, but I didn't believe him for one minute. I was sure that he only said what he did to placate Kili—or his brother. I kept my head down, but the words I wanted to say were ready to fly. _So, my lord, are you going to have people taking notes while I bath? Is everything I eat going to be categorized? How are you planning on picking through my toothbrush? Are your people going to examine my undergarments? Do you have your roster set for who's going to hide underneath my bed each night? Might I have my maids back after you interrogate them? _

Instead, I curtsied again and mumbled all the right and rote things someone says to a king. I was too hurt for it to sound sincere. I felt his gaze on me again. Then he surprised me once more.

"I'll leave you two now," he said. He stepped away and then turned back. "You _do_ look _most_ beautiful tonight, my lady," he added softly.

His voice made me shiver. Then he left and somehow took the vitality of the garden with him. I imagined him being one with the mountain and the mountain one with him. They gave and took from each other. If I had my sight, I was sure I would look around and see the flowers drooping slightly and their color fading. He was formidable and, suddenly, I believed Oin's words. Lightning and fire.

I couldn't take anymore. Too much emotion, too much pain of all kinds. I sat again tired and defeated. I felt another stinging cramp and shifted slightly. Prince Kili sat quietly beside me.

"Do you know why Balin said what he did?" he asked at last.

I sighed, unwilling to answer.

"I need you to tell me, Areen," he said. "Something's going on here, and I don't understand it."

I felt him reaching for my hand. He started playing with my fingers. It felt nice and safe. I was reminded of Feron.

"Truce?" he asked. "Friends at least?"

My shoulders dropped. I could do that. He'd been nothing but sweet to me.

"Yes, friends."

He sat, half-turned toward me in expectation, and I told him what I could.

"Your uncle is having me followed because he suspects me of having some secret, and he's right. My birth left me with some struggles that father was afraid would make me unsuitable and therefore threaten the trade agreement."

I felt him rock back and forth slightly like he was thinking through my words.

"Such as?"

"For one thing, my leg and hip hurt me when I walk too much."

He made a sound of surprise.

"Are they hurting now?"

"Yes," I said. He heard the exhaustion and pain that I couldn't hide anymore and took a deep breath.

"Let's get you to your chambers then before it gets worse. Uncle will help us."

What? Not on my life! I'd rather crawl up the stairs on my hands and knees than let him touch me again. I knew I was being unforgiving, but I hurt too much to be anything else.

"I'd rather he didn't, Kili," I said. My voice wavered from waves of pain. "Is there no one else you can get?"

He helped me stand, and I hobbled to the door.

"He's not what you think, Areen," he said. "He made a mistake tonight, a _big_ mistake, but …"

I huffed.

"_But,_" he countered calmly, "but only because he loves me and is protective of his family and his people. He truly is wonderful in so many ways and would die for those he loves."

I didn't say so but, really, was that so special? _I'd _die for those I loved. Wouldn't _everyone_ die for those they love? I noticed that Kili didn't list _kindness_ as one of his gold-plated qualities.

Happily for me, Oin was outside the door waiting.

"Aye," he said, "I knew it. Otha told me that you didn't get what you needed before the feast and that the bottle wouldn't be enough."

Then Slif came running up.

"Come, lass," he said _kindly_, "Kitra told me you'd need help."

Oin patted Kili on the shoulder.

"We'll take it from here."

Kili stood his ground and wouldn't let go of me.

"No, she told me she's in pain, and I want to help. We're friends now, and I want to help."

I could tell that Oin and Slif were weighing what I might have told him.

"Well," Oin said after a moment, "Mahal knows she needs them. Let's get her up the stairs then."

Working together, they got me to my chambers. Otha opened the door and saw the agony on my face. I started shaking with pain as my leg stiffened.

"We're ready, Oin," she said.

Slif must have urged Kili to the door because I heard his voice far away.

"Does she go through that _every_ night? _Why?_"

Slif answered quietly.

"Because she wants to live, my lord. But if she hasn't told you the cause, then I won't betray her confidence. On my honor though, she's the fiercest and bravest lass I've ever known."

That was the last thing I heard before I succumbed to my nightly torment.

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**Please review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Lady Syndra wanted a little more detail of Areen's struggles at night, so here's a taste. They are, unfortunately, modeled on my own experiences of struggling with chronic pain. Botox and Imitrex are my liniments and sedatives and are wonders for chronic migraines and nerve damage, btw. I didn't realize this when I first started writing this story, but there are a number of personal parallels. Hmm, first person, hmmm. Loves good food, hmmm, loves being outside, hmmm, can't sit still, hmmmm, loves exploring, hmmm, eyesight is poor without glasses, hmmmm. Oh, well. Think I'm going out for lunch today!**

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**Chapter 16**

Ugh. I felt terrible. Usually, after about an hour or so of grinding, stuff-fist-in-mouth-to-stop-screaming pain, the massaging, liniment, and sedatives worked to help me relax to a point where I could fall asleep. It was never a deep, luxurious sleep though. It was a light sleep where every sound, every twitch jerked me awake. I'd scan the dark, looking something moving as if I could. My sleep was an inch thick and ready to be disturbed for the smallest thing, although some nights I was blessed with a few hours of true slumber. I woke up sore, and my head ached from a clenching tightness in my jaw. Throughout the night, I kept stirring, never able to sleep for long. My nightgown was damp with sweat. Inching around and patting my mattress, I kept moving to find a dry spot. My dreams had me back at the dining hall with dwarves crowding around me and slapping at me while I tried to defend myself. Kili and his brother shouted and struggled to get to me while King Thorin stood up and laughed in that big, booming voice from the throne room. Father and Lord Balin heated pokers to jab me in my back, arms, and legs. Lord Boron was doing something I couldn't see. I didn't want to.

I woke up gasping in a little ball with my hands over my ears. Struggling to sit up, I felt hands on me, and I cried out.

"It's us, Areen," Otha implored, "just us."

Kitra tried to soothe me and told me that she'd draw me a nice, hot bath. I couldn't help it, I started crying. I felt like the fool they made me out to be. Even though Kili was so kind and King Thorin actually apologized—probably his first _ever_—my dreams erased all that. It was another little joke of nature, but my dreams were often more real than my day-to-day life because in my dreams I can see. When I was younger, I dreamed I was exploring the meadows and mountainside with my friends. We played a merry band of minstrels and rolled in the sweet grass like puppies. No one was hungry, and we ate more sweets than we could hold but never got sick. A fat troll with several stomach folds sat on father, keeping him out of my way. Those dreams made my life bearable when I first went blind.

Later, I dreamed that a handsome dwarf galloped through our gates on a glossy, black pony and stormed up to the keep, demanding to talk to father. I looked supremely beautiful with my hair braided around my head and falling into a thick and intricate plait down my back. I wore a dark blue, silk gown with a wide neckline that showed off my long neck and perfect shoulders. A small but matchless sapphire winked at my throat. My skin looked wonderful—not one blemish. I almost glowed in the light of the wall torches. His soft gaze met mine, and I saw such love, such yearning on his face that tears glittered in our eyes. He panted for me, his chest heaving with passion, and he held up his hand to stop father's ranting while keeping his smoldering eyes on mine. Ascending the stairs, he bowed before me, took my hand, and kissed it. Then he swung me up into his arms, marched me down the stairs without losing his breath, mounted his pony with me in his arms, and rode away without a backward glance. He smelled good too.

However, that was not _this _morning, and all I wanted to do was slip underneath the bath and soak in the hot water until Erebor fell with the end of time.

"You _must_ show your face, Areen," Otha _almost_ lectured. "You can't show weakness."

Huh. How like father even though she was right. I stepped out of the sudsy water and dried off my dumpy self.

"Am I pretty?" I asked suddenly. Usually, I didn't care, I mean, it didn't make any sense to care at home. There everyone had known me since I was born, and they either liked me or not. But here, here any advantage would be helpful. Especially now.

Silence.

Well, _that_ wasn't a good sign. Perhaps that was my answer then. I shrugged like I didn't care and that it wasn't any more important than asking after the weather.

"No," Kitra said at last.

Just grand to have it confirmed!

"No," she repeated while I ground my teeth, "you're not_ pretty,_ you're far beyond that. You are _lovely._"

I'm not ashamed to say that I teared up again.

They chose my new morning dress to give me courage. Lord Vinn gave it to me as a leaving-forever present. It was blue like a robin's egg. The material felt so soft, and it swished around me when I walked. Feron told me after I tried it on that I looked like I was walking in the sky. It also covered me in all the places I cared about but didn't feel too formal either. I remembered running my hands over it when I opened the box. Lord Vinn chuckled warmly at the stunned look on my face, and Mebla squealed. My eyes must have been the size of dessert plates.

"My, my," he had said, "have you ever seen such eyes?"

Tildur laughed and said I looked like an owl.

Otha and Kitra spent a lot of time braiding my hair. A thick braid around the top of my head acted like a crown, and then they braided the rest tightly to my head, moving downward until the rest of my hair was braided into a single, thick plait. My hair was so long that it almost touched the small of my back. I asked for Feron's bracelet. They also brought me a short strand of large pearls with a pendant of a cut gemstone the same color as the dress. That was a gift from our honest nobles. I never would have accepted it, but they said that King Thorin had been extremely generous and that this was to remember them by. So in a way, King Thorin bought me that necklace. I almost took it off.

Someone knocked on the outer door, and I thought I heard the _tsk _of a grimace. Otha yanked my hair a little too tightly while muttering that if Lord Boron showed up again, she'd step on his toes so hard they'd fracture.

"He came last night?" I whispered horrified.

"Aye," she whispered back. "Don't ever let him get you alone, Areen. There's just _something_ about him."

Ha! There was just _something _about nearly everyone here. There was just _something_ about King Thorin, just _something_ about Lord Balin, and just _something_ about the nobles here. Erebor had more just _somethings_ of _some _kind than anyplace I'd ever been—not that I'd been far. I filled my cheeks with air and blew it out with a pop. Kitra came back.

"It's Prince Kili," she said giddily. "He wants to escort you to breakfast."

I wasn't ready in more ways than one.

"He said he'd wait, Areen. What do I tell him?"

Mahal, my dress was laid out on the bed, and I didn't even have my stockings on yet.

"Ah, please tell him that I'm very grateful but that I needed to sleep a little longer, and I'll be down soon. I can't have him waiting, Kitra. He'll understand that I need more time."

She ran back to the door. I heard a low voice answer hers and then she came back.

"He says he wants to walk you through the doors."

I couldn't help but smile, and I was glad that we got as far as being friends. Some never get even that far. I even felt the stirrings of fondness. Yes, I could like this Prince of Durin very much.

* * *

Kili paced in the dining hall, checking the door every few minutes. His brother and Della watched him with increasing amusement. Little Frerin bounced on her knees.

"Waiting for your lady love?" he asked.

Kili turned to his brother and snorted. He looked quite handsome in a dark green doublet and black breeches. His brown eyes flashed with anger.

"We decided to be friends first," he said shortly, "but I'll be an elf before I let her or any lady suffer any more insult than has she already."

Fili nodded unhappily, and Della rolled her eyes. They'd never seen such a display, and both were unhappy that King Thorin allowed it to go as far as he did. He must have had a good reason—he always did—but if he had wanted to find out something, he'd gone about it badly, very badly.

"True enough. Whatever got into Balin?"

Kili scowled and paced with more energy.

"Uncle thought she had some dark secret," he said with disgust, "so he had her followed. Balin saw her in the kitchens with Slif and thought it was suspicious. Perhaps they figured she meant to poison us."

"The only thing suspicious is how Slif ever got to stay on as cook," Fili joked. He straightened up under their glares.

"He's doing the best he can, Fili," Della said. "It isn't his fault that Dwelf died before he could train him properly."

Fili nodded contritely. Dwelf was head cook, having served the Durins in Ered Luin, but his untimely death just a month into Slif's apprenticeship left him figure out most things on his own.

"So _does_ she have some _dark_ secret?" he asked, returning to the previous subject.

Kili shook his head, but his hesitation had his brother and Della looking at him strangely. He averted his eyes and fingered the muffins and little breads in the basket. They all looked and smelled delicious. He knew that Areen had given Slif more than a few recipes and that she had probably taught him how to cook without him knowing it. A small, admiring smile wound its way around his lips. Then he thought of just the thing to cheer her up. His small smile turned into a wide grin.

* * *

I was ready finally and walked arm in arm with Otha and Kitra down the stairs to the dining hall. Along the way I heard the angry and accusing mumbles of various dwarves as they went by. I felt like I was fading. I had heard that elves did that. When I was young, I thought they did it when their arrogance grew so great that Middle-earth just couldn't put up with them anymore. I imagined them fading away in snatches when their obnoxiousness reached the limit. But now I felt like I was fading away. I tried hard to muster a smile, but it took too much effort. I was able to lift my mouth at the corners, but that was all. Otha and Kitra pulled me aside when we reached the doors and hugged me hard. I dropped my head on their shoulders and held on tightly. Then I turned to the door but I couldn't go in, not yet.

* * *

Thorin was detained by several nobles wanting to go over details of yet another trade agreement, and he stood there impatiently while they droned on. His stomach rumbled in anticipation of another good meal, and he wondered what Slif would do this time. Finally, he told them that he would "think on" their proposal. They understood they were dismissed and left to complain in a hallway beyond his hearing.

As he strode down the corridor, he saw Princess Areen some ways in front of him. He heard the comments of nobles and others as they continued their gossip.

"Did you hear what she did?"

"Like a common kitchen servant."

"Perhaps she borrowed her clothes and wears _rags_ at home."

They didn't trouble to lower their voices, and he knew that she must have heard each and every one. Fresh pain throbbed like his head was being squeezed in a vice, and he rubbed his temple. Then he saw her stop at the door. She wrung her hands, but didn't go in. He stepped into the shadows to watch.

He saw with growing surprise her relationship with her maids. They seemed more like friends than servants, and he almost gasped when he saw them huddle together in support of her. They all hugged like a little family. Then her maids smoothed back a few stray hairs and brushed off her dress. She wore her hair like a queen, and dress was an unusual color. For a moment, it looked like a piece of the sky had floated into Erebor. Her maids patted her gently on the back, and he watched her turn to the door. She put her hand on it and dropped her chin. Her maids murmured encouraging words. Then she lifted her head and drew herself up resolutely. Balling her fists, she seemed to summon all her courage, and her back stiffened with determination. Her grit impressed him, but he had seen enough, and he knew what he had to do.

"My lady," he said gently as he stepped out of the shadows and approached her.

Immediately, she went rigid, and her maids blanched. Then she dipped into a stiff curtsy. He sighed internally, knowing that he was the cause of their distress.

"May I escort you in? It would be my pleasure."

She stood there with her head down, and he wondered if she would refuse him. Such a thing was unthinkable but, for a moment, he thought she'd actually considered it.

"It is my honor," she said softly.

He walked over and bowed before her, making sure that those in the hallways saw what he did. A collective gasp rose from behind him, and two sentries hastened over to open the door. Then he took her hand, placed another careful kiss on it, and tucked it over his arm. His other hand covered hers gently. A lovely gold bracelet with a heart attached jingled on her wrist.

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**Okey-doke. Hoped you liked.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Greetings loyal readers and welcome new ones! Thanks for your encouraging words and patience! Your reviews are a joy! I don't have everything down yet, but this fits into what's evolving, so here is the next chapter. A very clever reader agreed to be my beta, so once I figure out how to send chapters, I'll have my best chance to make this story what I want it to be. One change I made: Slif is an apprentice who was only a little into his training when the main cook died, so that explains both his lack of skill and his insecurity. **

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**Chapter 17**

King Thorin squeezed my hand as we stepped into the room. His was meaty, rough, and callused, and I felt a few healing cuts on his palm. Or were they scars? I didn't think that a king's hand would be that, well, well-used. Father's wasn't. His fingers were smooth. When he'd grab my arm, I felt no calluses nor any other proof that he did _any_ hard work. That made sense since he didn't. Perhaps King Thorin's hard hands came from weapons training since the war ended four years ago. I took a deep breath and smelled leather, metal, and … fennel. Did he nick some cakes off Slif? Then I felt a slight gust when the doors opened.

"It will not happen again," he reaffirmed quietly before we stepped inside. His low voice rumbled from somewhere deep within. I briefly halted the parade of horrid possibilities that might happen in a few moments to think on his voice. It sounded like it had traveled far. I imagined it wending its way from his innards, up his gullet, and out of his mouth, all the while acquiring layer after layer of richness and meaning. Perhaps his words started forming last night and took this long to leave his mouth. His voice was definitely his best feature. The rest of him couldn't be so impressive.

I nodded, surprised that he'd exert himself beyond the apology. I was still nervous, but his answer made me feel better. Maybe I'd survive the morning after all. Then I remembered the gasps in the hallway. I didn't know what happened out there, but he must have done something shocking. I tucked the moment in the back in my mind to ask Kitra about it later.

He was a puzzle to me now, and I didn't know what to make of him. That big, booming voice from the first day stuck with me, and his presence in the garden made me think he was enormous. A huge, barrel-chested dwarf with wild hair and a beard that looked like shaggy lengths of carded wool maybe. Or perhaps he was bald instead. Yes, bald sounded right with a bushy beard and mustache. His trunk would be long and wide and his legs short and stout in comparison. He had no neck; instead, his head sat directly on high, blocky shoulders.

I imagined that his face was square, rough, and pock-marked with nostrils wide enough to hold chestnuts. I could tell from his voice that he was taller than me by quite a bit. Prince Kili was also taller but only just. Did he have both eyes? An ear could have been bitten off by orcs or his nose by goblins. Whatever he looked like, he was an imposing figure and more than a bit scary.

We walked into the room slowly. Unlike last night, I heard a crash of noise that made King Thorin exhale with mild exasperation and me with confusion. I heard a chorus of voices—new voices—that made such a clatter that I couldn't pick out much of anything.

"Greetings, my … last piece of … lady … that's … bacon … disgusting … so … who's … shove … going … eggs … up … out … his … blooming …."

King Thorin harrumphed, and the room fell silent.

"I'll be happy to seat you, Areen," Kili said with a friendly lilt after he pushed back his chair and came toward me. The others, whomever they were, called out friendly comments and a few suggestive jokes.

"Not this time," his uncle said in a tone that made him step aside.

I didn't hear father or Lord Boron, but I did hear voices that ranged from cheerful to annoyed.

King Thorin introduced them one by one while I smiled but kept my eyes down. The one named Bofur was the most friendly while the one named Gloin was the least. Lord Dwalin—Lord Balin's younger brother, I found out—was gruff as well but with an underlying wry humor that had me picturing him at King Thorin's side making comments while they killed orc after orc. I envisioned him as the handsome captain with long, black and silver hair and wide shoulders. His eyes would be light blue at times but darken to a blue-gray when indoors. His nose was long but thin and hooked ever so slightly to give him a most noble air. He would have a trimmed beard and mustache, and women folk would swoon when he walked beside his ugly king. He was ever so beautiful but with a husky, rough voice that contrasted with his handsome appearance. I almost giggled. The ugly king with the beautiful voice, and the handsome captain with a voice like gravel. It's amazing what one can imagine in the space of a second!

"And Oin, of course," he said.

"Good morning, lass."

I heard the smile and support in his voice, and I couldn't help grinning in return.

"We thought it might be pleasant for you to meet those who helped restore Erebor to our people," King Thorin said with obvious pride. Kili must have suggested it or Prince Fili. I doubted their uncle spent that much time considering my comfort, although he spent _plenty_ of time on the reverse. That was mean of me to think, but I wasn't willing yet to let go of my resentment for his embarrassing me in the first place.

"Aye," the one called Bofur added, "you were going to meet us sooner or later anyway, and we invited ourselves after we heard about last night's feast."

Exactly _what_ did they hear though? I waited for snide comments but heard none. Instead, they called out compliments on the food and thanks for helping Slif. That was very kind of them, and I stopped feeling like a cornered rabbit. They were quite a merry bunch and certainly sounded much more fun than the stern and correct nobles.

"We never turn down a good meal," another one added.

"Or any food at all," joked one in the far corner. "If we can eat it, it goes down!"

_Oh._

Sausages sautéed with stinky rose and onions. Poppy seed muffins flavored with lemon. Other muffins made moist with molasses and raisins. Thin, flaky pastries with sweet cheese in the middle. From the oohs and aahs I heard, I knew that Slif's position was secure. The platters of eggs smelled wonderful. They were mixed with cheese and flavored with minced chives, salt, and pepper. I couldn't wait. I listened again for father and Lord Boron, but they weren't there. Various voices call out their surprise and delight over the breakfast fare and went into great detail about other memorable meals. I pricked up my ears at their descriptions of what they ate at Born's, Bern's, no Be-orn's house. Meanwhile, platters made their way around the table, and utensils scraped off the amounts wanted. I already had two muffins on my plate.

"Remember the animals serving us?" one of them called out. Ori I think it was.

"What?" I asked. Did I hear that right? "Animals _served_ you?"

Were they pulling carts? What a strange person this Be-orn must be!

"Oh, aye," Bofur replied. "I suppose it was only right since their master turned into a huge bear from time to time."

_What?_

I was so surprised that I didn't pay attention to what I was doing. The eggs had come my way, and I fumbled for the spoon and scooped them up without thinking. Sheep and dogs _serving food. _That couldn't be! I turned the spoon over, and Bofur stopped in mid-sentence. Then Prince Fili started laughing.

"Is that another recipe from the Grey Mountains, my lady?"

I dropped the spoon, and it clinked on glass. Oh, Mahal, what happened! I swallowed hard. What had I done?

"Well, Kili, now you can eat and drink at the same time!" Fili hooted.

I covered my nose and mouth with my hands. I had dumped eggs into his goblet. He must have put it down close to me while he was talking with the others. Then I heard Oin's voice from down the table.

"The next time you tell that story, Bofur," he said, "make sure that no one has food in their hands or mouth."

While everyone laughed, Kili leaned over and told me not to fret.

"This isn't the first time I've had food in my drink, but at least it's by accident this time."

Then he graciously spooned eggs on my plate. I was grateful. Lord Boron wasn't there to fix one up for me, but I refused to miss his company. However, without help, I was sure to make more mistakes since things were arranged differently here. I already saved myself from embarrassment at the last second when I was about to cut my muffin in half with a spoon. The Durins used different plate-wear for each meal, and I hadn't yet memorized the different handles of the various forks, spoons, and knives. I kept fingering them to distinguish their patterns. I wouldn't make that mistake again! Then servers came in with more sausages and bacon.

"Please serve Princess Areen," Oin called out. "We want to make sure her food reaches her plate."

May Mahal bless Oin with long life and anything else he wanted! I didn't care that everyone laughed at me. A full plate more than made up for it. I just had one question, and I waited until the clink of forks on plates had slowed.

"My lord," I said, looking over in the general direction of where King Thorin was sitting, "where are my father and Lord Boron?"

There was a slight pause before he cleared his throat.

"They're with Balin, my lady," he said. "They needed to go over trade details."

So, if I understood him correctly, father was still livid, and Lord Balin was sent to calm him down. Again, I was taken aback by King Thorin's efforts on my behalf. Mother said he was a dwarf of honor, and I had to agree—reluctantly. I decided then to ask for help and tell them everything. I prepared what I wanted to say, but before I could little Prince Frerin squirmed off his mother's lap and came toddling around the table.

"You must forgive his fascination with you, my lady," Della said with an amused huff. "As you can see, there aren't too many of our women folk here, and he's quite the flirt—like his father."

"Hey!"

I didn't mind. I love children. They're uncomplicated and say whatever they think. I always found them refreshing, and he was such a dear. I felt a tug on my skirts.

"Pincess Reen," he said eagerly.

"Good morning, Prince Frerin," I said with exaggerated formality. Then I looked down.

"Mm over here."

Mahal! What now? By the time I looked down, he had moved. I expected any second now that someone, anyone, would notice my struggles, but then again, they could think it part of a game.

"Over here! Over here!" he shouted, but he kept running back and forth. I put my hands over my eyes.

"Where are you?" I asked coyly. No one seemed to think anything of it.

"Here! Here!" he shouted.

I looked around. I was sure that my eyes passed him by, but I didn't make anything of it.

"I can't see you, Frerin. Where are you?"

I felt little hands tugging at my skirts. I allowed myself a small sigh of relief. Most of the others had lost interest in us and started talking about other matters.

"Here I yam!"

I opened my arms and helped him climb on my lap. Then he shoved something in my hands. It was a doll.

"Who is it, Pincess Reen?"

Would this breakfast _ever_ end? I felt like I was stumbling through an obstacle course, one like father set up with the furniture at home.

"My, what a handsome dwarf!"

At least I could tell _that_ much. It wasn't wearing a skirt or dress. I pretended not to know at first and felt my way around the doll. It couldn't be Kili since it had a beard and a braided mustache. It could be Prince Fili, of course, but it could also be King Thorin, although it didn't fit my picture of him at all. Then again, it could be someone else entirely.

"Hmm, whomever could he be?"

I gambled on the impatience of youth, and it didn't disappoint. Frerin was bouncing on my lap so hard by then that I knew he couldn't wait any longer.

"It's daddy! It's daddy!" he shouted.

"Of course it is," I replied feeling very relieved. He hugged the doll, and I hugged him. He really was very sweet. I never thought I'd have children of my own, but when I hugged him I felt warm and, and happy. I didn't want to let him go.

"Come back now, Frerin," Prince Fili said, "and leave Princess Areen be."

I gave him one last squeeze and helped him down.

"Oh, he's no trouble, my lord," I replied. I heard some noises, but I couldn't tell what they were. I decided that eating was the best option.

"Fili, please," he said. "We don't stand on ceremony here. Well, at least _most_ of us don't."

"Areen then."

"Just Areen," Kili added with a sly chuckle. I bumped him in his seat, and he bumped me back.

I heard King Thorin huff a bit at Fili's gentle jest, but the others laughed and called out jokes. Yes, these dwarves were _very_ different than the ones I met yesterday. They seemed, ah, _easier_ with each other, as only those who'd gone through trying times together could be. Even King Thorin seemed more relaxed with them, if he could ever be called relaxed.

"Your Majesty?"

The room stilled.

"Areen," he acknowledged slowly like he was testing my name on his tongue. He said it differently without the title.

But before I could say anything, the door opened, and someone came into the room with a hurried apology.

"My lord," he said, "these just arrived this morning, and I was told to bring them to you without delay."

King Thorin rumbled his thanks, and no one spoke. I heard parchment crinkling slightly. He must be reading something. When he was done he hummed heavily.

"One report is from King Thranduil," he said with a twist of distaste. I suppressed my image of him wading through muck to his writing desk. "He informs us that bands of orcs have been sighted outside Esgaroth and that the elves have engaged them."

Their reactions timed so exactly it was like the room itself inhaled and exhaled.

"What do we do, Thorin?" Lord Dwalin asked. Could I call him just Dwalin if the opportunity arose? I still wasn't sure. I leaned forward to hear what the handsome captain with the luxurious hair had to say. "Have they been seen between Lake Town and Dale?"

"Thranduil says that some escaped, but whether back to the woods or around the lake to Dale, he doesn't know," the king replied.

"What's the other message, uncle?" Kili asked.

King Thorin sighed. I was quite sure that despite what Fili said, the king would never, ever allow me to call him Thorin. I probably wouldn't even if he did.

"There are reports of a dangerous fever spreading along trade routes," he said with even more seriousness if that was possible. I felt a lurch in my gut. I knew too well what that could mean. "So far, it hasn't reached this region, but we need to take measures now to protest ourselves. Dale is stocking up in preparation to halt all trade until the danger has passed, and we should do the same."

The dwarves all mumbled and hummed their agreement.

"Areen," he said again. Despite the fact that I didn't much care for him, I could listen to him talk all day. Just the way he said my name made shivers dance along my spine.

I felt the urge to jerk my head up and peer around. That's how Oin caught me, so I lifted my head slowly. That didn't mean that my fists weren't bunched in my skirts though. Mahal, he could frighten the bark off a tree.

"Do the Grey Mountains have medicinal herbs to fight such things?" he asked.

I swallowed noisily and bobbed my head respectfully.

"Aye, my lord, we do," I answered, "that is, if the illness is caught in its early stages, but no herb or medicine can cure everyone of everything."

The king mumbled his agreement, and Bofur said, "True enough."

"We shouldn't wait then," he said decisively. "We need to prepare now and have what we need on hand. I will speak to your father, but whom would you recommend to prepare and bring such a shipment?"

I had no hesitation, and I'm sure all saw my excitement. Feron would come sooner than planned! I felt the bliss of relief flowing through my constricted veins, filling me with the warmth of early escape.

"Lord Vinn, my lord," I said with confidence, the only confidence I felt since yesterday. "He oversees our medicinal stocks and is completely trustworthy."

The king hummed again.

"Very well," he said. "I will speak to your father and, if he's agreed, I will send for your Lord Vinn."

Doubt snuck into my head to join the rest of my fears waiting on a bench. Just because I recommended Lord Vinn was enough reason for father to reject him, but, then again, he had little choice. Lord Vinn _was_ in charge of our medicinal herbs, and no one would know better what to bring and how to transport it safely.

I had the king's attention now, and I couldn't lose it to business and other matters, so I took a deep breath and released it through my pursed lips. It was time, and I pressed my knees together to keep from shaking.

"I wondered if I might ask a favor, my lord," I said. I sat up straight and plunged in. "My pony and dog are presently in the common area of the stables, and I request that they be moved to a more secure location."

I heard some mumbling in the room at what must have seemed like an odd request.

"May I ask why?" King Thorin replied with a hint of offense. "Do you have reason to believe they aren't _well-treated?_"

I felt my face turning red. What _was_ it about him that always set me on edge?

"Oh, not at all, my lord, but …."

_But_ the doors opened again, and father, Lord Boron, and Lord Balin entered. I almost cried. I was close, so _close!_ I thought about telling them everything, in front of father, but I didn't have the courage. He would come up with some reason to discredit me. He did that _so_ well from long practice. I dropped my head. It would wait for another time, but I _would_ tell them and soon.

"Areen?" King Thorin prodded.

"It's nothing, my lord," I said while trying to smile. "I thank you for a wonderful breakfast."

Lord Boron came over, of course, but his didn't take my hand this time. Instead, he stood behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. He blathered on about his gratitude for Lord Balin's willingness to put things to rest, but I caught something new in his tone. There was heat there now, heat, and a hint of … possessiveness? I leaned slightly away from his hand, but he didn't move it. Then I leaned forward slightly. No luck. Finally, I reached behind my head to pull my long braid over my shoulder. He had to move his hand then. Perhaps he wanted to appear supportive in front of the Durins, but I felt like he was hiding a part of himself that would eventually surface. I made a pact with myself not to be around when it did. Then he kissed my hand again, and I felt the tiniest rake of his teeth against my skin. I smiled uncomfortably in return, refusing to think on what had happened. All my choices were ghastly. Then I remembered the mysterious red dress and satin nightgowns, and a horrible suspicion tugged on my thoughts. I quickly rubbed my hand and wrist on my skirt. I think only Kili saw me wipe off his kiss under the table because I heard a disgusted snort to my right.

"I'm so sorry to have missed _this_ feast, my lords," he said jovially, "but I thank you for the opportunity to set things right between our peoples. I'd hate to think that Princess Areen's generous heart would be misunderstood."

"Indeed," King Thorin said dryly.

Then Fili asked what Kili had planned for me today.

"I thought we'd do something she's been wanting to do for some time," he said, "something she hasn't been able to do since she was little."

Oh, Mahal, he wants to take me shooting! He'd know soon enough; he couldn't _help_ but know! I prayed he'd handle it well.

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**Kili _will_ find out in the next chapter. Please review and thanks for sticking with the story! **


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you all for embracing Areen and holding her close to your hearts. She needs all the friends she can get! I'd like to introduce you to Painton, who has agreed to be my beta. She's already done a wonderful job with this chapter. I like a good challenge and she gave me 30! She's the author of "Quest to Forochel," among other stories. If you see a big improvement here, it's because of her. **

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Otha and Kitra laid out a bell-sleeved blouse and my new split-skirt. The tightly woven, linen blouse was soft from many washings and one of my favorites. Mother didn't want me to bring it because it was so old, but I loved how it felt so thick yet slippery. There wasn't one rip or hole in it, so she had our servants wash it until it looked like a "white, summer cloud" in her words. The skirt was very comfortable. Kitra said that it was dark brown and would help hide any strays hairs from Summer. I hoped to sneak in a visit to Sky and Summer after my time with Kili, but father forbade me to wear my old skirt within sight of Erebor. This new skirt was made of thick velvet and had removable panels fastened in front and back to hide the split. No one would know including father. A braided leather belt hid the fastenings. I laced up the boots Oin made for me.

I asked Kitra to take out my elaborate braids in favor of a more casual style. She pulled my hair to one side and braided it into seven thick plaits that she twisted into a coiled loop. That would keep my hair out of my way when I made a fool out of myself.

Still, fortune had favored me by having father come in when he did. It would be easier telling Kili first. I was going to tell them all during breakfast because I was so desperate to have done with it. On second thought though, I would have made a mess trying to explain everything to a crowded room. No, Mahal was right to have father come in. Still, telling Kili wasn't going to be easy either. I imagined what he would think. What would I think if I were in his place? I would be … surprised but sympathetic. Surely he'd see that I didn't want to deceive anyone. Kili was a friend, and we had a truce. I hoped it would hold.

"One other thing," I said to them. Lord Boron's kiss had me thinking. "Do you think that Lord Boron gave me the red dress and, uh, nightgowns?"

They gasped together, their combined breath shuddering like a death rattle.

"He couldn't have!" Otha exclaimed. "Such a thing couldn't be! It would signal that, that he, he…"

"That he what?" I pushed. I didn't understand what she was implying, but Kitra's choking sounds on the side gave me an inkling. It couldn't mean what I thought though. I was the daughter of the ruling lord—such as he was—and not a common trollop. I'd heard of lovers giving their mistresses gifts as payment, but we were anything but.

Otha drew a deep breath. I could hear by her hesitation that perhaps I might have been right after all.

"Such a thing would mean that he wants to court you and that he gave them to you to seek your favor. However, giving a maiden nightgowns is most inappropriate."

A queer buzzing in my ears blotted out anything else she said, and I felt a damp film of sweat. I remembered my arms around his neck after I'd sprained my ankle and his lips grazing my ear. I shook my head, but the buzzing continued, and the air felt heavy and oppressive like summer storms I remembered from long ago. I felt someone grab my upper arms and push me on my bed.

"Is she going to faint?" I heard Kitra say from miles away. Her voice sounded slow and heavy, and my head wobbled from side to side like a tall tree in the wind. My eyes felt like marbles rolling back in their sockets. Otha, no, Kitra patted my cheeks, and I feebly waved her hand away like it was an annoying fly.

"Areen! Areen!"

Hands pushed my head between my knees and, after a minute, I could hear again.

"Are you going to faint?"

I put my face in my hands. My mind lurched from one notion to the next. I knew vaguely of courting customs but had never given them much thought.

"Not anymore," I said dully. Then I straightened up, put my hand on my chest, and cricked my neck to ease the sensation of a hand gripping the back of my head. "If he did give them to me—_if_—what was he _thinking_ to do such a thing at Erebor? No, it _couldn't_ have been him."

I sat quietly while catching my breath and then I had it. I felt better right away.

"_Mebla_ gave me the dress and nightgowns. She _must_ have! And _Feron_ gave me the necklace!"

Of course. It all made sense. Mebla _hated_ formal dress. We all did and spent as much time in comfortable clothes as possible. We couldn't very well plan mayhem in tight sleeves and high collars! Lord Vinn must have given them the money and told them to surprise me with gifts. How sweet of them. Tildur picked the color. Red was his favorite. Sella must have had a hand in it as well. I sat back with a relieved smile.

There was silence and then what sounded like several starts and stops of words.

"If you think so," Otha said finally.

_They_ obviously didn't.

"Why do you think he might have then?" I asked, not wanting to spend another moment on the subject.

"My lady," Kitra started, retreating into formality to keep calm, "we've noticed his attentions to you, which are beyond what they should be. Don't forget he stands to rule if he marries you and your father and brother die—not necessarily in that order. He may not have given them to you, but you need to be on your guard if he did."

"I'd never!" I spat, my words landing on the heels of hers. No how, no way would I ever, ever,_ ever!_ agree to marry that toad! The very thought made me want to take a bath and wash off its taint.

"Um," she continued but with a reluctance that made me imagine she was reaching down her throat to grab the words and pull them out. "By your own free will, no, but if he finds some way to compromise you, your father might insist since you're still under his authority. He wouldn't allow the scandal of a refusal, and Prince Kili would step aside as a matter of honor even if he wished otherwise. You have no _official _protector here _yet_, so Erebor might be the perfect place for him to try."

Oh, Mahal. Is that why he came with us? He didn't have to. Father said that he ordered him to come, but perhaps Lord Boron insinuated himself. Regardless, all my choices narrowed to Feron getting me out of here as soon as possible. I felt more sweat gathering under my arms. There was only one question left now, and I breathed in and out to have enough air to stand the answer. I wasn't going to faint. I _wasn't._

"I hope to Mahal he didn't," I replied, "but_ if_ he did, what does my _wearing_ the dress signify?"

They wouldn't answer me.

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Kili asked after doors had closed. The food was gone except for a bit of egg on one platter and a crumble of muffin on another. Ori and Bombur eyed each other before both dove in with forks. With a rakish grin, Bofur yanked away the platters at the last second, and their forks stabbed the embroidered red tablecloth.

"You've had enough," he said with a wag of his brows, and he made an exaggerated show of slurping the eggs off his fork and stuffing the crumbs in his mouth. "Wunnerbul."

"She's a bashful maid at that," Gloin said grumpily. He looked over the jumble of plates and serving ware while hoisting his fork, hoping for a last, overlooked morsel. "Ah!" and he speared the end of a sausage off Dori's plate.

"Eh! I was saving that!" the gray bearded dwarf groused. "I hadn't stopped eating! I was just … resting."

Nori tsked and pulled a scone from his pocket. The ginger-haired dwarf ignored huffs and sputters from around the table. He buttered it calmly with a triumphant grin.

"Extra pockets," he said before pushing it in his mouth with his palm. Then he rubbed his hands together and wiped the remaining butter in his hair to smooth the wisps that had escaped his three sections. The others watched with various expressions of disgust.

"You're going to smell like bacon though," Dori said, still miffed over his lost sausage, "and someone's going to take a bite."

"Old bacon," Bofur corrected, looking over Nori's freshened, tri-lobed hairstyle, "very old and rancid bacon. Oi! When was the last time you took a proper bath?"

Nori dithered a bit. "When was Frerin born?"

"Ah, well," Bombur commented, "that explains a lot."

The others leaned away, but Ori paid no mind, seemingly in another land altogether.

"She's not bashful," he said dreamily with a slight pursing of his lips, "she's just _ladylike_. I'd love to draw her wearing a white gown and sitting in the gardens."

He sighed, but Dori reached over and cuffed him on the head.

Thorin hummed and stroked his beard. Balin was about to say something, but his king lifted a finger from where his hand lay on the table, and he sat back and waited.

"She's always clutching some maid's arm," Dwalin commented with a disinterested shrug of one shoulder. He couldn't care less what she was like as long as she was good for Erebor. Of course, he did want Kili to be happy. They had all watched the lad drag his feet about the place like there were balls and chains attached. He closed one eye in a silent chuckle over his pun. The lad might be exchanging one kind for another. "Is she _that_ timid? She'll not last long with the nobles then."

"Or their wives," Gloin answered with a roll of his eyes. He brushed a few crumbs out of his beard that Bombur longingly watched fall to the green granite floor. "My Glinna tells of the gossip that spreads faster than infection. How would she handle that?"

Their general mumbling didn't produce an answer, so Thorin turned to the only female in the room.

"What do _you_ think of her, Della?" he asked intently.

He approved Fili's choice of wife at first because she hailed from a noble clan and he saw how happy Fili was with her. He never expected her to have talents that he might find useful, but her judgment was sound, and he relied on her far more often than he wanted to admit. He excused it by saying that she helped him understand the women folk of Erebor. No one argued against that reason. She had saved him from more embarrassments than he wanted to recall. Once he wrote an order requiring dwarf women to wear steel-plated girdles to protect them against possible attack. Her timely advice saved him from an angry crowd of wives and daughters.

She hesitated while she gathered her thoughts. She sensed that there was more to Areen than she allowed others to see, but the fact that her son took to her so quickly was all the character reference she needed.

"Areen's kind, affectionate, and very perceptive," she said. She looked down at Frerin. "I don't know how, but she knew I was expecting, although her aim is off in other areas. The rest laughed, and Frerin squealed at the merriment.

"Daddy," he burbled under his breath while tugging on the braided mustaches of his miniature father. He fisted both and pulled them taut to flip the doll end over end. Fili watched with a grimace and fingered his mustaches gingerly.

"I think she's charming," she said, and then she stopped. Her lips twisted while she sat silently. None of the other dwarves dared interrupt her while she was putting her thoughts in order, partly because her insight was worth waiting for but more because she wasn't above skewering them like a pig on a spit if they crossed her. Only Thorin was exempt.

"I don't think she's showing us who she really is though," she said. Thorin sat up at that, and Balin threw him a look.

"She pretends to be engrossed by her food …"

"Aye, I've never seen a lass put so much away!" Bofur chortled with a rub of his now round tummy.

Della fixed a stern look on her face, staring him down until he ducked his head and slumped down in his chair.

"As I was _saying_," she continued like she was thinking through her thoughts out loud, "she's so careful to be correct and unassuming, but I suspect that she's been instructed. That she tries so hard tells me her natural self is very different."

Fili chanced a look at Thorin before answering.

"That may be because she's had a bit of a time here. Her father came down hard on her, did you notice? It says a lot that she showed her face after last night." He trailed off a bit at the end, wanting to make his point but not too loudly.

The others mumbled their agreement. Thorin's lips stretched into a thin line.

"Aye, well," Kili said with a bit of cheek, "I'd better get to the shooting range soon. She's gone to change," and he pushed back and braced his hands on the table before turning to leave.

Thorin shifted in his chair and appraised the different expressions of his company. Dwalin had leaned back in his chair, now uninterested in the conversation. He was rolling his shoulders in preparation for ax training with new recruits. The gleam in his eye gave away his intention to terrify them. Thorin reminded himself to have that talk with Dwalin about not scaring away potential warriors. They needed all they could get, and Dwalin's last "lesson" had young dwarves coming in droves with requests to be reassigned.

Ori looked thoughtful and a bit too dreamy. Thorin nodded slightly, deciding to keep an eye on him. Dori and Gloin started arguing over the sausage end while Della bounced Frerin on her knee. The Fili doll flopped back and forth and then banged face first on the table. The larger version looked pained. Bofur was slowly reaching for a bit of bacon left on Oin's plate while Bombur plotted his strategy from the other side.

Balin turned to Thorin with raised brows, not sure what to make of all this.

"What about her request to have her dog and pony moved someplace safe?" he asked.

Thorin shook his head.

"I don't know," he replied quietly. "I'll keep them where they are but tell the grooms to keep a lookout. Something's afoot, and I have the strange feeling that we're going to find out soon."

They turned and listened in on the dwarves' opinions of the Princess Areen. Some thought that she was modest and shy, while others said that she was clever and guarded. A few weren't sure what to make of her.

"Well," Fili said, hoping for the best, "I can't wait to meet the real her, whoever she is."

* * *

"Now I know you haven't done this in a long time," Kili said cheerfully, "but you'll catch on soon enough. The targets are the usual wooden rounds covered with canvas. They're set about 30 yards away, but I'll move one closer for you."

My maids had to wait outside double doors while I stood inside the long shooting range. I smelled the old and musty sweat of countless dwarves who had trained there in ages past along with the fresh and reeking sweat of those who trained there now. Perhaps the ventilation shafts needed a good cleaning. The wafts of air that passed under my nose weren't as fresh as they should be. On the other hand, dwarves like a good sweat. It's a mark of pride among dwarrow who train. Anyone not swimming in their own juices didn't work hard enough, and it's a mark of honor to leave a trail. I idly wondered if the walls were damp with it. I was sure they weren't, but I didn't care to test my theory. Perhaps the cleaning crews simply missed their shifts for the past few years. I hung back until Kili took my hand and pulled me to the target range. The only noise I heard was us.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

He laughed lightly. "I thought you might not want an audience, so I had it cleared."

My heart swelled with affection. I so wanted him to take my news well.

"Now watch me, and it'll all come back to you."

I turned in his general direction and heard the confident twang, twang, twang and thwack, thwack, thwack of an expert archer. No wonder the Durins won their war! If the others were as accomplished as Kili, they were formidable warriors. I imagined Lord Dwalin cutting down orc after goblin with a swing of his mighty broadsword. He'd twirl in circles, dispatching enemy after enemy with a tight, slicing arc. I shivered slightly, thinking of his thick black and silver locks swinging around him, his blue eyes hard with pride and determination. He and King Thorin would toss quips back and forth while whacking and parrying. The king would slash and hack with two battle axes, not as graceful perhaps but just as effective.

Kili thrust a bow into my hand, and I squeaked with surprise. It was heavy, and I tapped the end hard on the floor.

"Lost in admiration, were you?" he joked.

I pulled myself back to attention. I wanted to tell him, but he seemed so pleased to do this for me that I didn't want to spoil the moment. _Before we leave,_ I told myself.

"You're wonderfully skilled," I said honestly. "I'm going to shame myself. What of your brother and uncle? What weapons do they use?"

He put my hands on the bow and corrected my non-existent stance. Helpfully, he fitted my first, blunted arrow and lined up my shot. He jokingly said that he didn't want me stabbing myself. I didn't tell him that flesh wounds were the least of my worries.

"Oh, Fili uses double swords, and uncle … no, you're twisting your body. Stand as straight as you can. You and the bow work as one."

I stood as straight as I could and pulled back on the string. I could hardly bend it. The arrow clacked on the floor and skidded. A moment of silence passed.

"That bow's too tight for you is all," he said graciously. "It's one of my old ones."

He padded away, and I heard him picking up and twanging the strings of several bows. "Ah!" He walked back over and put a lighter one in my hand.

"This will be _much_ easier," he said. He stood next to me, fitting the arrow and aligning my shot. I pulled back and the arrow clacked against the wall.

"Better!" he said. I couldn't help laughing.

"How so?"

He chuckled. He was a young soul and one that I could grow attached to. I would care if he was hurt no matter how, and I felt a heaviness settle in my chest that I might be the one to do it today.

"At least you hit _something_."

I tried time after time, fumbling to fit the arrows until he stayed with me and fitted them himself. Time and again I heard the clack of the arrow against the wall instead of the target. Finally, he said that was enough for today, and he took the bow out of my hand and put everything away in some rack. I heard the slim bows slide into slots against the wall.

"You're terrible shot," he said from some distance away, but he said it in all good humor. "You couldn't have shot any worse if you were blind."

My heart thumped my chest so hard that it hurt, and I grabbed the front of my blouse to wait out the pain. It was time, and I locked my knees to keep standing.

"I _am_ blind," I said. There it was. I said it clearly and loud enough for him to hear. What I didn't figure in was his sense of humor.

"You certainly are," he replied jokingly, "but in a few weeks you'll get the hang of it again."

He didn't understand, but I wasn't going to hide anymore. I didn't care what happened now. I would find some way of keeping Sky and Summer safe if I had to sleep in the stables with a dagger in my hand.

"No, Kili," I said firmly, and I faced where I thought he was without troubling to direct my gaze. "You don't understand. I _am_ blind. I can't see you, and I can't see the target. In here, inside Erebor, I can't see _anything_."

I waited for his response, but there wasn't one. Nothing, just nothing. I heard nothing, no angry breaths, no gasp of shock or surprise, nothing. He had every right to be angry at me. I not only deceived them, but worse, I made fools out of them. They would think and rethink all my interactions with them, parsing every gesture, every word until everything came into focus. Then they'd be furious that we hoodwinked them in their own home. Otha and Kitra needed to start packing; that is, unless we were going to take up room and board in the dungeon after they got over the shock. My new toothbrush would be put to good use scrubbing the floor.

Finally, I heard a long, drawn-out exhale and sounds that made no sense. Then he found his voice.

"You can't, you—did Fili put you up to this?"

I shook my head. That he tried to explain away my words as a joke only told me how bad it was going to get. I had played my part too well. He stood up for me and pledged his friendship in good faith, a faith I was crushing under my heel. I felt wretched listening to him try and defend me still.

"No, no, he didn't," I said calmly. Is this what dying feels like? I felt little pieces of me dropping to the floor like chunks of charred wood that fall away in a flame. I wanted to tell him that father put me up to it, but I agreed to it. I was coerced, true, but I agreed to it nonetheless. "I didn't stop shooting because of kingdom business, Kili," I said. "I stopped because a fever swept our lands when I was nine and took most of my sight."

He walked toward me, and I felt the air blow in front of my face.

"I can tell you're waving your hand in front of my face, but I can't see you."

His breath caught in his throat.

"I don't understand," he said hoarsely, clearly struggling to form his thoughts. "How … why did you deceive us? Why didn't you _say_ anything?"

How could I make him understand everything without telling him everything? Unless now was the time.

"Father ordered me not to reveal it and pretend to see."

"But _why?_"

He sounded so confused and lost that I wanted to hug him. It wasn't his fault, and it wasn't fair. Damn father for putting me in this position while he eats and drinks and preens and acts the petty lord.

"Father decided that we needed to present a position of strength and not show weakness. We need this trade agreement like I told you. When your uncle commanded me to come as part of the agreement, father ordered me to hide this"—I waved my forefinger in front of my eyes—"from everyone."

Silence. No, not exactly. He wasn't saying anything, but his breath was this slow inhale and quick exhale. The sound made me cringe. It was the sound of someone trying to keep a strong emotion under control.

"I had to, Kili! He threatened to kill my dog and pony if I didn't! That's why I asked that they be moved somewhere safe!"

"Your _dog_ and _pony?_ Why would he do something like that?"

I put my hands over my eyes and tried to stay upright.

"Can we sit down?" I asked.

He stepped forward and took my arm.

"Is this why your maids always had your arm?" His voice had grown a shade colder and a step more distant.

He led me to a bench and sat me down. Our budding camaraderie flattened into cool civility.

"My dog and my pony are not only my pets," I said quickly. Something told me that the window of sympathy was closing rapidly and that I had to say everything before it shut. "Sky is my guide dog. With her I don't need anyone's help, and I can walk and move around freely. She's my eyes."

"Animals aren't allowed in Erebor."

I gritted my teeth. He wasn't making this easy but, then again, he didn't have to.

"I _know_ that. Summer is trained as well and with them I'm almost independent. Father hates that since he wants people to feel sorry for him. It helps him stay in their good graces."

"Is that it then," he asked stiffly, "or is there _more?_"

"Yes, I'm also lame without these special shoes that Oin made for me. One leg is more than two inches shorter than the other."

Something registered then.

"That's why you get those cramps."

I nodded. His voice had softened. I prayed that he'd stay with me to the end.

"Yes, but I'm hoping they'll ease up now that I'm in balance."

"I see."

I said nothing while I waited for him to ask his questions.

"But you came here with a sprained ankle, or were you _lying_ to us about that as well?"

He emphasized the lying part, so I knew that was what mattered more to him, to him and probably his uncle. One day father would face Mahal and answer for all this.

"No, it was the truth," I replied bitterly, "but I sprained it myself before father and Lord Boron broke it.

He recoiled with a horrified gasp. "That's, that's … how can anyone do that to his daughter?"

I heard him run his hands through his hair.

"They figured that if my bad leg was sprained or broken, it could be hidden until the agreement was signed." I let him have the rest, hoping that Lord Boron would choke on it someday.

"He's a monster."

Yep, there it was. We were at least agreed on one thing at least. I heard his distress in his breath and movements. It was painful to listen to.

"We can't go through with ... uncle _can't _sign this contact with someone so dishonorable. He _wouldn't_ if he knew this." His knee brushed mine as he turned to me.

"Uncle suspected that you were keeping something from us. All your shyness, all your looking down, all your caution. It was your blindness you were hiding, wasn't it? Della said you weren't yourself. So who are you _really,_ Areen?"

He said it softly but with the undertone of distrust. It hurt more than I thought it would.

"Your uncle has to sign, Kili. The fever. He needs our herbs."

He groaned and then snorted with disgust. The window had closed, and I was judged guilty by association.

"Caught between a liar and a plague. Funny, at the moment, I can't tell which is worse."

I couldn't help it. A whimper left my mouth before I could stop it.

"I was going to tell you. That's why I asked King Thorin to move Sky and Summer. I was going to tell you!"

He sat still for a moment. Then he sighed and gently took my hand, holding it limply.

"I'm sorry," he began. "That was mean. I don't blame you, Areen. You had to obey your father, but I'm disgusted by what he did. I ... I need to think. In the meantime, I will say nothing for the sake of _my_ people, but I need time to sort out my thoughts. Do you understand? I don't know who you are, not really. Will you promise to be yourself now? Your_ real_ self? I'll ask uncle to move your pony and dog, but you need to tell him, Areen. I'll keep your secret for now, but you _must_ tell him. I'll arrange an audience."

I nodded. "I will, I swear. Once Sky and Summer are safe."

"Very well. I need to go now."

He said it so quietly and with such disappointment. He had the right to be disappointed in me for lying, but was he also disappointed that I was blind? I felt him shift beside me.

"Kili, please forgive me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I heard him get to his feet. His fingers brushed mine. Then he was gone.

* * *

**A beta is a wonderful gift to any writer. Thank you Painton and please review everyone! Your encouragement is so needed and helps me want to keep going when life gets busy.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey folks! Here's the next chapter. Let me know what you want to see next!**

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**Chapter 19**

I bent over with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I needed to think. No, actually, I didn't need to think because I had no thoughts left to think. Kili treated me well, considering, but I suddenly felt like the walls of Erebor had closed in and become a tomb.

"Kitra? Otha?" I called for them but tiredly. I wanted to sleep, but I wouldn't. Mother drilled into my head long ago that sleeping through a problem never made it better. I suppose she felt the need to say that after I refused to leave my bed for at least two weeks after realizing that my eyes would never heal. Then I heard my maids' hesitant steps, hesitant because they didn't want to know how bad my time with Kili was. I didn't blame them. I wouldn't want to know either. I wasn't angry though. I was just ... sad. I needed to do something enjoyable so I could calm the anxiety bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I needed to be among friends, to laugh and to joke, and to be outside with my favorite smells.

I missed my smells as much as I missed my friends. They are like friends too in a way. Familiar and soothing. I have to think that everyone has favorites for all the senses. Kili would have his favorite bow as much as his brother would have his favorite swords. I'm sure that Kili thrilled to the tight twang his bow made when he shot his arrow so precisely. Perhaps his brother enjoyed how his swords fit his hands. His fingers would curl happily around indentations in the grip, perfectly crafted to fit his hand. I could easily imagine both those things and the smiles on their faces. I feel that way about my favorite paring knife.

No doubt King Thorin loved the clink of gold coins, although perhaps not as much as he previously did. Frerin, of course, would have his favorite sweet. Della might enjoy a favorite perfume. Everyone has smells that make them happy.

I love the smell of pine needles on the wind and fresh cinnamon in the kitchen. Burning sugar maple logs in fall conjures the most delicious smoke, and the scent of grass in spring makes me want to twirl like a child. Summer's scent makes me feel safe, and Sky's scent—when she's clean, that is—is that of a beloved pillow that's snuggled day after day.

"Prince Kili left," Otha said softly.

She didn't want to press, but there wasn't anything worth keeping to myself.

"I told him the truth, and our deceit upset him," I answered, knowing her unspoken question. "He wasn't unkind"—I left out the part about liars and the plague—"but now he wants to be left alone to sort things out."

Kitra made a thoughtful noise in her throat. I think they'd have been shocked if it had gone better, but they were relieved that it hadn't gone any worse.

"What of King Thorin?" she asked.

King Thorin. That ugly bear of a dwarf. I wasn't ready to think about him. Telling Kili was hard enough. I would tell his uncle, but I needed all my courage first, and I wasn't going find it inside the mountain.

"Take me to the stables," I said. "I need to go outside."

It isn't the custom for dwarf women to spend much time outdoors, especially without their protective menfolk present, but since I didn't have any protective menfolk at the moment, I would clear my head with a ride. The clean air and motion of cantering with Summer across the land would set everything right. I was sure of it. Anyway, I was already dressed for riding. With Otha leading the way, and Kitra taking me by the arm, we headed outside where I could see the blue of the sky.

The fragrant breeze was freshened by cool tendrils of air. I imagined the great mountain sending plumes of cold mist down its steep sides like arms reaching down to touch the ground lightly. I took deep, cleansing breaths until I felt a little light-headed, but it was wonderful to have life all around me again and things to see, blurry though they were. I know that dwarves are supposed to love their cloistered homes and revere the strength of stone and metal, but I always felt like I was trapped inside the rock. Maybe that's because of who lived in there with me. A bear might hibernate cozily all winter but not with squawking crows pecking at his eyes and nose.

"I would like my pony brought out, master dwarf," I said to the groomsman coming toward me. One whiff of manure gave him away. Kitra leaned in and whispered that he was the same one who met us when we first arrived.

"Who's going to escort you, my lady?" he asked, no doubt looking around and not seeing a male of any kind standing nearby.

"No one, master dwarf," I replied firmly. "I will ride alone today."

He hemmed and hawed, and I heard his heavy boots grinding dirt under the toes.

"My lady," he began reluctantly like one who had to obey but wouldn't if he had the choice, "I ask you to think better of it. It's not done here for our womenfolk to be outside without male escort and certainly not to ride alone. Your father would ask to have me thrown into the dungeon if he knew."

Hardly, but he didn't need to know that. I never had formal escort at home because I always had Feron and Tildur with me. I was sure that others were protective of me—father notwithstanding—but I didn't care about what other dwarves thought at the moment. That time was still to come.

"I take full responsibility for my decision, and I won't go far," I replied. "I will make sure that no one blames you for my actions." His concern was sweet, and I wasn't going to worry him needlessly.

"Perhaps just to the trees in front us almost half a league from here, my lady," Otha hinted, giving me a landmark that I could hear.

"Very well," I replied. "I promise I'll go no further, and, meanwhile, I have a favor to ask."

"Aye, my lady?" he asked with an edge to his voice. He was suspicious that I had something even more improper in mind.

"I'd like you to keep a special eye on my pets," I said. "They're far from home and not used to being away from me for this long."

He made a curious noise in his throat when he should have bowed and agreed. I knew then that something was wrong.

"It's funny you should ask that, my lady," he said. "Some of your guards came to check on them just yesterday, and I must say that the ruckus they made had me running for the stables."

My eyes flew open, and I swallowed loudly, too upset to say anything, but Otha jumped in to speak for me.

"What kind of ruckus, master dwarf?" she asked.

He huffed, and I heard his mutterings of disgust.

"My lady's pony took a set against them as soon as they walked into the paddock, she did," he began with no small degree of admiration. "Laid back her ears and kicked against the door to her stall. Her dog barked and growled like she was taking on a bear. The two of them fiercer than wargs, they were."

Then came what some people like to call a pregnant pause. I assume it's called that because a pregnant woman of any race is heavy with child, and therefore the pause is heavy with meaning. But in this case, the phrase didn't fit. Pregnancy is a cause for celebration, especially among dwarves. A horrified pause was more like it.

"Yes, well," I said to cover my fright, "they tried to saddle Summer during our travels here, and I'm afraid that they went about it quite badly. They have no feeling for ponies, unlike you, master dwarf."

I've never heard anyone swell with pride, but his long sucking in of air may well have been my first experience. He chortled knowingly.

"Aye, my lady," he replied, "it's an art, and one that few recognize. Proper little lady she is, is all. I told myself as soon as I saw those knuckleheads that they had no understanding for ponies, none at all. They stomped right in to check on her, but she'd have none of it. Good head on her, I told myself. I didn't like the look of them myself."

Now knowing that father's lackeys were rough with her, he worked himself into a froth and swore that they'd better not come again, or he'd sic his dogs on them. Still grumbling under his breath, he went back for Summer, and I heard him crooning to her. She nickered happily, and I was relieved that someone was treating her well. Next I heard him rattling a chain. A happy whine came from the stables and then came sound of a _very_ happy dog running toward me. Sky never did learn how to curb her enthusiasm. WUMP! I sprawled on my backside with a panting dog on top of me, licking my face and anything else she could find.

"Enough! Enough, Sky! I love you, but I don't want to be covered in your spit!"

The groomsman laughed a hearty, belly-jiggling laugh, and Summer whinnied and trotted over.

"That's a beautiful dog you have there, my lady," he said after a slow trailing off of chuckles, "but I have to tell you that we were a mite scared of her when we first caught sight. Like a large, gray wolf she is, and we couldn't tell the difference at first."

My lip curled at the thought of dwarves cowering when Sky first arrived.

"Can you now?" I asked.

I heard him grinning with his reply.

"Aye, she doesn't want to eat us."

I scratched her ears, and she yowled happily and then rolled on her back.

"Oh, you greedy girl!" I said, and I gave her belly a good rub. Then I got to my feet.

"I'll take her with me, master dwarf," I said. "Will she be enough escort?"

He chuckled again.

"She might at that."

* * *

Summer's hooves pounded the ground and my sorrows as well like a pestle striking a nutmeg to break its outer shell before it's turned into a fine powder. I put my anger at father and sadness at hurting Kili in the palm of my hand like a pinch of ground nutmeg and blew them away. Summer's strong rhythm always helped me get rid of my "excess of feeling" as mother so nicely put it. I have a lot of "excess of feeling." Sky loped behind us.

Of course, Summer was the one working hard, but sitting on her bareback, I felt like I was part of her. It was glorious! I walked her for a bit while I pulled my hair free of its braids. Then we took off again, and I felt my thick hair slap against my back almost to a sting. Grabbing handfuls of her mane to keep myself steady, I tilted my head back and laughed at the sun, that great, white light that refuses to acknowledge my blindness. Instead, it forces me to look up and acknowledge its power before showing me that my world isn't as dim as it appeared. I yelled with exhilaration to the blue of the sky, the green on the ground, and to the air so fresh that my lungs burned on drawing it in. I was ... happy again. Riding outside with Summer, I wasn't blind, and I wasn't lame. My bad leg is shorter below the knee, so I can squeeze her evenly to keep my seat, my perfectly balanced seat.

I wanted to keep riding, riding for hours until the sun said goodbye and headed to its nighttime home. Perhaps I would chase it and lay down where it sleeps. Then it would bath me in light so bright that I could see everything. My blindness would be gone, and I'd see clear again at last. Love must be like that, I mused, my thoughts veering suddenly to take a strange turn. I scoffed at myself and then laughed at the sound. What was I thinking? This was my childhood friend Mebla's territory. She's never so happy as when talking about love—or plotting extremely clever traps for father's dim guards to fall into.

I told myself to change the subject, but my thoughts kept to a straight line like a sunbeam. What is love really? Is true love, real love, and not that kiss-a-dwarrow-behind-the-shed nonsense, worth having? What does it do? Is everything exposed and yet safe? Would love know all my faults and not be afraid of them? Even more, would it push me to overcome them?

I do have a secret, oh, and Mebla would never let me hear the end of it if she knew! I want that romantic dwarf in my dreams. I want to tingle at his name and be dazzled by his presence. Is that too much to ask? Probably. Dazzled and tingling doesn't happen much. At least not from what I've heard. I've had a few near-tingles in my time but not weak-in-the-knees tingles. Comfortable and loving seems more common. That wouldn't be a bad second choice though. Good friends who respect and support each other. Not bad at all really. Maybe it's like being friends but living together and sharing things. No, that wouldn't be bad at all. It would be just one step further than what I have with my friends. We always supported each other, and though we have enough faults to fill a vault, they don't make us unhappy with each other. Marriage in that way would be just the same ... apart from the physical stuff.

I had reached the trees. I knew because I could hear the swish of leaves in the breeze. A liquid tinkle told me that there was a brook close by. Hmmm. What would it be like for someone know my body as thoroughly as their own? I saw some animals mating when I was young, and I always thought that the female had a lot to put up with. But later I heard a couple in the market back home talking about how special their time together was. It didn't sound too awful. Would I want someone touching me in tender places? Would I want Feron or Kili? Would I be excited or resigned? Would I tingle then?

I tossed my head to shake off my thoughts. At the moment, my only choice was still Feron. I trusted him with my life, and I was comfortable with him. He wasn't exciting like the dwarf I imagined in my romantic dream, but he was loyal and he understood me. I felt a little flash of disappointment though. Only to myself, dazzled sounded wonderful. Then it could mellow into soft and warm but keeping some sizzle in the mix. I gave Summer her head, and she trotted forward to graze a little on grass by the stream. She deserved a little treat after being kept to her stall.

I had only a few minutes of quiet before I heard a galloping horse coming toward me. I had asked to be alone, so this wouldn't be Otha or Kitra. I wasn't prepared to get into trouble twice in one day, so I pulled on the reins, and called Sky over to me.

"My lady!" an unwelcome voice shouted, a most unwelcome voice. Mahal! Lord Boron was a scourge! Riding up as close to Summer as she'd allow, he reined in his pony. He took several deep breaths like sitting atop a galloping horse winded him. I told myself to give that poor, burdened animal fresh carrots when we got back to the stable—separately.

"My lady," he puffed, "the groomsman told me that you were out for a ride, but you shouldn't go without escort."

Not for one minute do I regret being a dwarf, but this particularly custom was getting on my nerves faster than a fire in a hayloft. Could a dwarf woman not be alone for five minutes without some dwarrow charging to her rescue? Some may call it gallant, but that depends entirely on whom is doing the rescuing!

"Lord Boron," I said curtly, "I'm in view of the stables and perfectly safe. I needed a moment's peace, so I respectfully ask to ride back alone."

Could I have put that more frankly?

"My lady," he said feelingly, "I beg you to reconsider."

I guess not. I opened my mouth to say what I really thought of him, but he cut me off before I had the chance.

"Besides," he said in an entirely different voice, "we need to talk."

I didn't want to, but I agreed to his request, and I followed the sound of his pony's clopping hooves over to the stream. Both ponies drank greedily. I listened to the leaves dance on their branches and then I heard Lord Boron's next words.

"I want you to know that I never would have allowed your father to hurt you on the trip here," he said in a commanding yet reasonable tone of voice. It was one I hadn't heard from him before. It sounded uncomfortably close to sincere. "However, you took matters into your own hands before I could convince him of another solution."

I turned my head away. I listened to his undertone, but he had improved since the last time I really listened. He was more clever than I gave him credit for, but I heard the gears clacking nonetheless.

"Is that so?" I asked coldly. I didn't bother to turn toward where I heard his voice. "If I understood correctly, you were the one who argued for my being presented like I was _normal._" My mind didn't have time to come up with a strategy. Instead, my body instinctively flinched at his words. Distrusting him had become a reflex.

"I did think it best at the time," he replied, overlooking my huff, "but I've been nothing but considerate toward you since we've been here."

I thank Mahal that I was still looking away from him when he spoke again.

"What can I do to prove that you can trust me?" he implored. "I knew about the shorting of accounts to help the merchants and families, yet I didn't turn anyone in."

I almost gasped—almost—but Summer tossed her head, and her movement gave me time to recover. He would know if I lied, but he didn't mention names, so maybe he was fishing for information.

"I had heard something about that," I said with a nod. I kept my tone serious but distant, "but I thought that they were rumors only."

He snorted with amusement. He didn't believe me.

"Some guards have seen you giving money to Sella the baker and a few others," he replied.

I rode away to escape these kinds of games! Mahal! When was it going to end? Now I had to make my move. My heart hammered in my chest, and my mouth went dry, but I arched one brow and shrugged one shoulder, trying for royal dismissal.

"I confess," I said in a bored tone, "but I'm afraid it was to satisfy my own appetites. I had asked Sella to try a recipe for me, but it was out of her budget, so I gave her some of my allowance to make up the difference. I'm not sure whom else the soldiers saw me give money to—oh, it might have been to Modrif for some velvet for a new sash and slippers and Felor for a tortoise shell comb."

He hummed while he thought through what I said. I heard uncertainty for the first time.

"You needn't have given them money, my lady," he ventured, "since you are the princess. They would have given you the goods for free."

That made me angry, but I'd be damned if I'd let him see it. He was baiting me, hoping I'd show my feelings, but now wasn't the time for _excess. _Too many people's lives hung on my discretion.

"True," I replied, "but I didn't want to take advantage of my position. If I had asked for something that they stocked, well, yes, but these were items they had to procure just for me, and I wanted to show my appreciation. Maybe then the next time I want something unusual, they'd put themselves out to get it instead of saying that they couldn't find it."

He didn't say anything, so I thought that maybe I had slipped past him.

"So what did Sella get for you?" he asked suddenly.

I was ready with an answer.

"Oranges," I answered. He noised his acknowledgement. "They're very rare, but some elven traders spoke of them, and I wanted to try them. They produce the most wonderful juice, and she used some rinds in several bakings of scones. I believe you had some from the batches Sella brought to the keep."

Pig. He and father grabbed half the baking on the way to a meeting without a thank you to poor Sella who stood there with tears in her eyes after having her basket pillaged.

"Oh, yes," he replied, "I remember now. A very rare flavor indeed. Expensive, you say?"

"Very, my lord," I said. "Sella told me that they only grow in the southernmost climates, but, occasionally, elven traders pass by and purchase some. She told me that King Thranduil favors them."

I could tell that impressed him. Oaf.

"Aye, you did right to compensate her," he had to agree, "but now that you're at Erebor, I'm sure that you'll have no trouble getting anything you wish. Your _appetites_ will be fully _satisfied_, I'm sure."

By now I was truly sick of his comments that meant something and nothing at the same time. I scoffed at him, but I think he was somehow pleased to fluster me.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He laughed.

"Forgive me for teasing you," he replied still chuckling. "Our relationship hasn't progressed to where you're comfortable with my jests."

I heard Kitra's voice on the wind, and I turned Summer in that direction. I had had enough of his conversation.

"No, you forget that we have no relationship and that my _appetites_, whatever you might be implying, are none of your concern—or should I share your _teasing_ with Prince Kili?"

Then I galloped off toward the noises of Erebor, leaving him spluttering apologies and calling after me to make amends. His pony would get carrots _and_ apples.

* * *

"I don't understand why you won't move her dog and pony," Kili said with his arms braced on a heavy, marble desk. "It isn't so much to ask, uncle."

Thorin sat on the other side with sheaves of papers covering the top. Kili's hands curled around the heavily carved rim, the only free space there was. Thorin's desktop was almost always covered but in orderly piles. Contracts and disputes covered the right front quarter while correspondence covered the left front quarter. Invitations to social events were exiled to the back left. Hanging slightly over the back right, as if Thorin was hoping would fall into the waste basket of their own accord, were requests for audiences, audiences of a personal nature, audiences where fathers would thrust their daughters in his face in hopes of making a favorable impression. They never did. Laying lightly on top of the papers closest to Thorin was a childish scrawl in colored inks of a tiny stick-figure dwarfling with blond hair holding the three-fingered hand of a larger stick-figure dwarf with long, black hair and a crooked smile. The dwarf had blue eyes and a big nose.

"Tell me why," he said, "and I'll gladly move them."

Kili pushed off the desk and turned away in frustration. His uncle seemed annoyingly stubborn in everything concerning Areen. It didn't escape Kili's notice that his uncle had been suspicious of her from the start, even going so far as to humiliate her in public, no doubt now to find out what she was hiding. He felt a flash of sympathy for her, knowing as he did that she was surrounded by watchful eyes. It really wasn't any wonder why she was so careful. He wanted her to be herself but under impossible circumstances. It was easy for him to ask, but he didn't have the lives of two beloved pets in the balance.

"I can't tell you," he said shortly, his promise to Areen closing his mouth.

Thorin cocked his head and watched his sister-son pace in front of the desk. The last time he'd seen Kili this riled up was several years ago, but the memory was etched in his mind. His sister-son had shouted then that he'd not have others fight his battles for him. His eyes had burned then, just like they did now. Never had Kili been so passionate and so right those few years ago. To the very marrow of his bones, he was right then, and Thorin loved him for it, loved him and was immensely proud of him too. However, this time there wasn't family honor on the line.

"She _needs_ to talk to you, uncle, and you need to talk to her," he retorted, wheeling suddenly and slamming his hands back on the rim of the desk, "but she _won't_ unless her pets are moved. Uncle, it's _important!_"

Just then a courier came to the door with an urgent message. Thorin grabbed it from his hand and scanned it quickly. His face turned dark, and Kili heard the parchment crackle in his uncle's fist. The plague was spreading.

Thorin stood slowly. He hoped that Kili hadn't taken her part like the others, but by the look on Kili's face, he suspected that he had, and that was more than he could take at the moment.

"So she told you what this _important_ thing is, and you can't or rather _won't_ tell me," he said, stating the obvious in a menacing tone. "Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

_Kili wouldn't have taken her side too?_ he thought. _Not my Kili. Not my sister-son._

"Aye," Kili said resolutely. "I promised to keep her secret, but, uncle, she wants to tell you. Please make it easy for her."

Thorin turned his back, amazed and annoyed how an unsophisticated dwarf woman from the country, a very fetching young woman to be sure, but a novice at kingdom politics nonetheless, could have lined up his own people and a member of his own family against him.

"I'm not against you, uncle," Kili said as though he had read his uncle's mind. "No one's against you, but she needs to make sure she's free to tell you."

Thorin stared at him, seeking understanding in his face. Kili was serious, but there was something else as well. He looked like he'd taken a blow.

"She's hurt you with this, hasn't she?" Thorin asked. He tilted his head and nodded when Kili hesitated to deny it. "You care for her, and she's hurt you."

Kili's eyes widened, and he put his hands out to stop his uncle's temper from rising unchecked.

"Don't do that, uncle," he warned. "Don't look like that."

"Like _what?_"

Kili shook his head and grimaced.

"Like Azog resurrected," he answered slowly.

Thorin slammed his palms on his papers. Frerin's latest drawing lay unscathed between his outstretched arms.

"I won't make concessions to find out what concerns my people in my own house!" he growled, no longer caring about keeping his temper at bay. He was angry at Areen for hurting Kili and even angrier that she made him keep her blasted secret despite it. He remembered his shame for embarrassing her, but he pushed it aside at this latest development. What sway did she _have_ over the dwarrow here? "She comes and tells me the truth first. No conditions. I'll not haggle in my own kingdom."

He held up his hand and stopped Kili from trying to argue further.

"This is _my_ kingdom, and I _won't_ be the one who bends here," he said angrily. "She tells me everything, and then _I_ decide what happens next."

* * *

**Will Thorin go on a rampage? Who knows! Sounds like it though. Thanks again to Painton for her very thorough sifting through my embarrassing first draft. Hope this one does better!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Howdy readers! Sorry for the wait, and thanks for being so patient. I'm so happy to see so many new readers joining in! Thank you! Here comes what some, no, most of you've been waiting for! It's a lot longer than the average chapter, but you deserve it!**

* * *

**Chapter 20**

I walked back through those well-oiled gates and up to my chambers to rest. I didn't meet anyone who cared to say anything to me. Lord Boron may have wanted to, but I didn't want to listen anymore except for necessary monosyllables. I took off my riding habit and prepared to dress when I heard a knock at the door. A timid knock. That wasn't anyone I knew. If it were father, he'd pound with his fist, but on less volatile days, he'd _summon_ me to him. Lord Boron, in the few times he came to my chambers here, knocked with a quick rap-rap of one knuckle like he belonged behind the door but had forgotten something and needed to get back in. If mother were here, she'd knock and then lean close to the door and call out "Areen? Sweetheart?" Kili had a nice knock. His was a firm but polite three knocks with all his knuckles. I couldn't imagine what King Thorin's knock sounded like if kings ever needed to knock. Maybe they had someone else do it for them. If King Thorin ever knocked, I bet the door would fall in. Perhaps a crew of dwarves had the task of rehanging knocked doors.

Otha went to open the door while I hurried into my dress. I listened in, but I didn't recognize the voice. Otha thanked her and came back into the dressing room with a quickened step.

"Oh, Areen, it's from Lady Della!"

Perhaps she was holding out something for me to see. Both she and her sister did that from time to time like they forgot I was blind. It was one of their most endearing traits, although not helpful on all occasions, this being one of them.

"What's from Lady Della?"

She giggled, and Kitra oohed and aahed.

"The most beautiful gown," Kitra said after a moment of reverent silence. "Even more lovely than the red one."

I chewed the inside of my lip. Lady Della had admired my harlot dress—although I needed to call it something nicer since Mebla and Sella had it made for me. But no matter what the new gown looked like, I knew I had to wear it tonight since she went to the trouble. I hoped she had good taste.

"What is it made of?"

They guided my hand to it, and I touched a velvet I'd never felt before. It made my rose-red dress seem like scratchy sack-cloth. It was thick, almost like short fur, and I wanted to rub my cheek on it. I did.

"What about the neckline?"

They laid it on the bed, and I oriented myself and walked over, feeling the gown from the bottom up. The skirt had thin bands of velvet, like pleats only horizontal up to the knee. The skirt wasn't full but rather streamlined through the hips, but the size seemed about right. I cringed as I felt up to the bodice, but then I released my breath in relief. It was simple yet elegant. The neckline was low but not too low, and wide with cap sleeves but not wide enough to show my under corset. All was well in the world again. Lady Della had exquisite taste. The front of the dress had a few small bumps at the dip in the cleavage.

"Sapphires, royal-blue sapphires to match the fabric," Otha said to answer my fingers. "This would give a lass the confidence to face anything."

"Mahal," I replied. "I think I'll need to talk to the king tonight."

"What do you think will happen?" Otha asked. "Will we need to leave if you tell him the truth?"

I heard Kitra snort.

"Of course not," she said. "I can't imagine any dwarf, noble or not, who'd throw us out because her father's a lout—begging your pardon, Areen."

I shrugged, having called him worse under my breath. To his face was another matter.

"I don't know," Otha said while tapping her foot. "When I was in servants' hall, I heard a lot about the royal family. They're fair and honest, but King Thorin's a bit like a mama bear about his sister-sons."

I screwed up one side of my face, trying to picture that image.

"We need to get ready just in case," I said. "If the king backs out of the trade agreement, we'll have father to contend with."

"Do you think word has reached Lord Vinn yet?" Kitra asked with a large helping of hope in her voice.

I shook my head.

"I don't know. It'll take some time to prepare everything. He wasn't expecting to send enough to treat a plague."

We spent the rest of the afternoon going over all the details of a quick leave-taking. I told them that the plague and roving bands of orcs were troublesome obstacles, but if King Thorin's temper was a bad as Oin said, they might be preferable. Of course, I was not entirely serious, and Otha scoffed to show that she didn't appreciate my twisted sense of humor, but in any case, it was good to be prepared. In the meantime, I told them to enjoy themselves and eat a hearty meal. The servants' hall was always cheerful, Otha said and, after eating, everyone took turns telling stories and jokes. She repeated a few of the more respectable ones to help pass the time.

Evening came after Otha's respectable jokes ran out, and I dressed. Otha and Kitra had tried several hair styles. It needed to be simple they said, so they left it loose and parted it on the side. A sapphire clip held one side of my hair behind my ear, and the rest coiled over my shoulder. Too soon it was time to go, and I found myself trying to find fault with my appearance so I could stall the inevitable.

"We'll be all packed," Kitra said.

"Where do you think Prince Kili will have set up the meeting?" Otha asked

Of where I had no doubt. He was a dear, and I knew no matter how upset he might be that he'd always treat me with consideration.

"The gardens," I answered. "King Thorin will meet with me in the gardens."

* * *

Thorin met with the Lord of the Grey Mountains and Lord Boron all morning and into the afternoon, and it didn't go well. He pressed his fingers against his temple, trying to rub away the tension that had accumulated throughout the day. This minor lord wanted a military alliance as well as a trade treaty, which was preposterous. Erebor had no need of military assistance from dwarves of the Grey Mountains, so such an agreement would be of no benefit to his people—especially since the settlement in the Grey Mountains had no standing army to speak of. He snorted, imagining his warriors trekking across the land to settle petty grievances. In fact, petty was an appropriate word for Areen's father, he thought. Durin's beard! That dwarf would pick the last nit to get his way, although his Lord Boron did his best to intercede and smooth over disagreements. Thorin thought that he could probably work through this Lord Boron to pacify Areen's father with wealth enough to keep him happy. Losing some coin would be worth it if it prevented another headache. He was beginning to suspect that other, more reliable councilors had, in fact, brokered the initial trade agreement and that they were the ones responsible for whatever competence he had seen thus far. He dragged his hand over his face and braced his elbows on the table.

"And you asked them to stay for two months," Balin said after everyone else had filed out. "A puffed up popinjay, he is. Did Kili tell you _anything_ else about what's going on?"

Thorin's chin jutted out, and his left cheek twitched. His patience was strained to the limit, although he was heartened to hear that Thranduil seemed to have beaten back most of the orcs. He had enough going on inside the mountain to deal with anything outside, but perhaps the largest part would be dealt with tonight. He had told Kili that he would meet with Areen, but he had _not_ promised anything else.

Since Kili left him, he had replayed their interaction over and over in his mind. There was something in Kili's voice that he didn't catch the first time, but he still couldn't place it. Hurt, yes, but there was something _else_ about it, something deeper. His head ached, and he winced. Balin's eyebrow lifted, and he reached for a bottle of red wine.

"Just a glass," he said while pouring, knowing that Thorin needed to be in somewhat of a good humor to speak to the princess. He remembered their fiasco and wanted, if at all possible, not to have it repeated. If that were to happen, he thought, partly in jest, Fili, Della, and Frerin might well travel to Ered Luin for an extended stay.

* * *

I was ready to go downstairs when Kili's knock sounded at the door. I was surprised. He said he needed time to work through his feelings, but I didn't think he'd do that this fast. Otha opened the door.

"I thought I might escort Areen down."

For a moment, I thought Otha might drag him inside. Kitra came out with me, and I heard him inhale. Perhaps Lady Della just had a dwarrowdam's intuition, but I was glad of her help.

"I see you're dressed for battle," he said with a hint of humor. "Did you save this gown to befuddle uncle?"

"Lady Della gave it to me." What a thought! It wasn't my fault Lady Della had good taste, and I wasn't one to try and use female wiles—especially since I didn't have any—to win a dwarf over. I was too awkward for that, much to Mebla and Sella's dismay.

"Areen," Sella used to say, "you're just not making enough of what you have."

I replied that I didn't even _know _what I had and wouldn't know how to use it if I did.

He walked over and took my arm.

"She told me," he said. "I think this is her way of welcoming you to Erebor since new frocks and gowns seem to be popular with the ladies, and we haven't done much to make you feel welcome. Not that I think you'd care much for finery. Am I wrong?"

Before I could answer, he sighed.

"I spent all day trying to sort through how I felt, but the one thing that stuck was how unfair it is to you. The rest, like I said, is your father's doing."

I felt like I could breathe again, but his last comment about father had me rolling my eyes.

"Being ordered about by father is fault enough," I said. "I'd marry Slif if that would get me out from under his thumb."

No one spoke for a heartbeat and then Kili laughed.

"So this is the real you, yes?" he asked between hearty chuckles. "No more shy princess then?"

"No, I'll still have to play that part until after I talk with your uncle," I said, "but perhaps by then we'll be on the road."

He made a quizzical noise, and I explained. Rushing to reassure me, he took my hands in his.

"Areen," he said with a shake of our hands, "I know my uncle has a temper, but no matter what happens, he won't hurt you. He _won't._"

"But, but didn't he … didn't he … the hobbit?" I said. His warm thumbs rubbed the top of my hands.

"Aye," he said, "he struggled with dragon sickness, but he overcame it. Besides, this isn't a sickness, just a misunderstanding."

* * *

The feast was a noisy, crowded affair, but I was grateful that Kili stayed near me and even helped me with the platters and my plate. I teased him that he was being self-serving and only helping me to keep food out of his wine glass, and I was pleased to hear his merry laugh ring out. It was a different night, and I forgot for a moment what was coming. It wasn't exactly the calm before the storm though. There was too much noise for that. I listened in on many of the conversations. There were spots where there was a roaring of sound like a waterfall and others where there was hardly any sound at all. I think that's where King Thorin sat.

* * *

"Do you see him with her?" Balin asked, trying to compare what he had heard to what he was seeing. "It's like nothing happened. Did you misunderstand him?"

Thorin stroked his chin and said nothing. Spying on her had become an uncomfortable habit, but he couldn't look away. All he remembered or that mattered to him was the devastation on Kili's face, yet now he seemed slavishly devoted to her in spite of what happened, and he watched flabbergasted.

"When are you meeting with her?" Balin asked. He looked around the hall to see many dwarrow's eyes on the Princess Areen and calculating their next move after offending her.

Thorin pushed his plate away. He had lost his appetite.

"After the feast in the gardens," he said. "Kili insisted on the gardens, but he wouldn't tell me why. No one, it seems, sees fit to tell me _anything _in my kingdom anymore."

Dwalin pushed through with his elbows and plunked down his plate.

"What are you both yammering on about?" he asked after shoveling roasted potatoes flavored with paprika in his mouth. "She comely enough, the lad's out of the doldrums, so what are you both on about this time?"

Balin huffed, and Thorin waved his hand, brushing off his comment. She did look beautiful, and he wondered if she had planned her attire to disarm him, but Lady Della's comment about her gift of the dress dispelled that argument. He drained his goblet. In a few minutes he was going to find out everything he wanted to know. After taking another unhappy look at Kili's face, he thought that he might not want to find out.

* * *

Too soon, Kili walked me toward the gardens, but before we arrived, father and Lord Boron stopped us.

"Prince Kili, I'd like a word with my daughter in private, if you please," he said, no doubt with his chest puffed out and his fists clenched. That was my earliest memory of him. Perhaps he even slept that way. Kili hesitated, and I imagined that he looked none too pleased, but there was nothing he could do without giving me away, so he stepped back. It was just my luck that Fili came up and asked Kili to join him for a moment, and father took that opportunity to grab me by the forearm and walk me around the corner.

"Don't think I didn't notice the new gown," he said with a snarl. "Where did you get it from? Well? With highest-grade sapphires no less. A gift from the Durins, yes?"

I never knew why he bothered to ask me anything when he answered his own questions. Lord Boron tried to say something, but father cut him off.

"Listen well, girl," father said. "They treat me like I'm not fit to wipe their boots while you get expensive gifts. How do you account for it? Have you compromised our house? Are you making a fool of me?" He squeezed my arm harder.

I dropped my eyes. Father was in rare form even for him, and this time Lord Boron's voice broke through.

"I'm sure it's nothing of the kind, my lord," he said. "They merely wish to make her feel welcome. I overheard Lady Della saying that she gave Areen the dress. It may be the custom here to give guests gifts, female ones at least."

Unconvinced, father huffed and gripped my arm harder, squeezing the bones together. I felt them twist.

"I didn't get what _I_ wanted though," he said. "I want a military alliance, and it was as much dismissed from the agenda. _King_ _Thorin. _Humph! Second-rate Durin heir from the backwoods finds himself lucky to be a king at all and of _Erebor_ no less."

Now while I had no lingering fondness for King Thorin, I thought that was taking it far enough to reach the Blue Mountains, but I said nothing.

"_And _he's requesting that _we_ leave to ready the shipment," he said, "as if it was my _personal_ responsibility!"

I caught myself fast enough—I hoped. Father and Lord Boron to leave? Gone? _Gone!_ To be out of my life for several weeks at least. Ah, I felt the heady nectar of sweet freedom flowing through my veins, but I tried not to show it. Father gave my arm another wrench, and I winced. Clearing his throat, Lord Boron tried to distract him, but it had the opposite reaction.

"So here's what you're going to do, girl," father said. "You're going to use your _friendship_ with these dwarves to get me my alliance."

"Father," I replied before I could catch myself, "they'd consider it most inappropriate for me to push in where I don't belong."

He squeezed my arm harder, and this time I tried to pull away.

"Oh?" he sneered. "You were quick enough to suggest Lord Vinn oversee the shipment, and King Thorin agreed. I'm to return with him as proof, _proof_ of my competence, I'm sure of it, so get it done before I get back."

The pain was intensifying every second he yanked and wrenched.

"If I can't, if they won't?"

"You'd better."

This had gone far enough.

"Or what? You'll go home and beat mother again?"

At that moment, I heard two sets of inhales. Father's was through his teeth, but Lord Boron's was an open-mouth inhale.

"How dare …!" father began, but then his arm was yanked off, and I heard a body slam against the wall.

"Don't you touch her or her mother again, my lord," Lord Boron said with deadly quiet. "I've stood by and tolerated your fits of temper, but never in all my years did I really think you'd beat your wife like a dog. I should have known though seeing how you treat my lady here, but not again, _never _again."

I heard a slight scuffle. Father must have pushed him off.

"How _dare _you threaten me," father returned just as quietly. "I could have you removed."

"As I could _you,_ my lord," Lord Boron countered. "Don't forget how unpopular you are. It would be an easy thing to do, since your guards have more than one patron. Your family is your best asset and if our people find out how you've treated them, you could find yourself at the bottom of your worthless mine."

With a sound of sympathy, he took my arm and held it in his sticky fingers. Father snorted and struggled to get himself under control. It must have been a new sensation for him.

"Do you need a healer, my lady?" Lord Boron asked. I shook my head. "Are you certain?"

"The garden door is here," I said, my voice shaking too hard to pass it off. "I just need some air."

He clucked his tongue, but I turned to the door and repeated Kili's words. The door opened, and they gasped. I felt a moment of stick-one's-tongue-out triumph, but heavy footsteps clomped from far down the hall, and I rushed into the gardens like a rabbit fleeing before a fox. Just before the door closed, I heard a voice.

"My lords, is anything the matter?" King Thorin asked.

* * *

I passed the flowering trees and headed toward the roses where the balcony was. I was shaking so hard that I couldn't speak and gasped for air. My arm throbbed. It wasn't yet turning spongy and hot like my ankle did, but I knew it might. I couldn't face the king now, but there he was outside the door, and I couldn't very well turn to him and suggest we postpone his anger for another time. Turning my face to the sun, I breathed in and out and tried to calm myself. I heard is solid footsteps a ways behind me and a deep voice. I knew his embarrassment at being unkind to me wouldn't last, and I was right.

"My lady," he said with barely controlled anger, "my sister-son says we need to talk or rather that you have something to tell me, but I tell you now that if I find you've played him false, there is no cave, mountain, kingdom, or hole where you could hide and be safe from me. As it is, it's only his own plea that I'm even willing to listen."

_Oh, Mahal, help me._

* * *

Thorin had wanted to get his distasteful meeting over, but he heard voices in the corridor and was surprised to see Areen's father and his minister almost nose to nose. Their conversation seemed tense, but he was preoccupied with other matters, and they retreated, although he heard one of them make a noise when he opened the door to the gardens. He stomped around the flower beds after his harsh words, but she didn't turn around. She should have flinched or trembled, but she did neither. He stood there with his hands on his hips, waiting for her to respond.

"Why did you want me to come here?" she asked. She sounded so wistful that it caught him off guard, and he bristled, his frown growing even deeper. She was always catching him off-guard it seemed. Protocol demanded that she curtsy, but she didn't.

"Don't play games with me," he said. "What is this I need to know?"

"Please," she pleaded, and she turned around. Tears coursed down her cheeks despite her attempt to blink them back. "Kili told me that you wanted him to marry, but why me?"

He gnashed his teeth at her impudence, but her expression didn't change. Instead, she cocked her head and listened to the sound of his jaw working back and forth.

"You don't dictate what happens here, my lady," he said. "I'm not here to answer your questions. You're here to answer _mine._"

She closed her eyes and bit her lip as though everything hung on his answer.

"Please, my lord, why _me?_"

"Because he didn't want any of the others," he said with obvious frustration. "When Erebor's merchants first visited the Grey Mountains, they happened to ask about you." He grimaced. "But I must say that they were _gravely_ mistaken in their estimation of your suitability."

"So I was the last resort?" she said like she was dim. "You found out about me by _accident?_"

He wasn't going to say that she was his first choice, no, he wasn't going to admit to _that_. Tired of this back and forth, he was about to demand from her what he'd come for when her voice changed.

"You made me leave my home and friends because I was last choice for a prince who didn't want to marry in the first place?" she asked. "How could you?"

He stormed up to her then, using his greater size to intimidate her, but she didn't respond, not at all, and that infuriated him.

"I didn't give you leave to question my decisions. I've _earned_ the right to make them. Who are _you_ to question _me?_"

She clamped her mouth shut and flushed red. It seemed like she was straining to hold in something overpowering, but in a rush, she let it go.

"So they _happened_ to ask about me, did they?" she said. "I could have been spared this trip and heartache if they'd bothered to find out more or were honest with what they knew. Then they would have told you that I'm _blind!_"

Of all the things that Thorin Oakenshield suspected, that was not even the furthest from his mind because it didn't at all figure into his calculations. He had heard nothing of the sort from the merchants, although they were there to search out trade goods, not a wife for Kili. Besides, dwarrow weren't in the habit of passing along unflattering gossip along about noble-born dwarrowdams. There were too few of them to criticize.

"You're _what?_" he asked dumbfounded. She wheeled on him, and he saw then what he had always seen but had mistaken for cunning.

"Blind!" she spat. "Are you _deaf?_ Do you have any idea at all of what you've done? What would you know of having sight stolen as a child and being left to stumble, never again seeing the faces of those you love or sights you long for. What if you could never, _ever_, see your mountain and your friends and family _again? EVER!_ So, my lord, I think I've _earned_ the _right_ to question your decision!"

He was so shocked that at first he couldn't breathe. It was inconceivable that she could have hoodwinked his entire kingdom. He was so taken back by the enormity of her deception, of her father's deception that he didn't know what to say. Anger pooled in his stomach at being made a fool of, and he struggled to regain his footing.

"The gate chains," he said, still trying to be in the right. The alternative was too ghastly to contemplate. "I see now." He paused at the irony of his words. "Is there more? You came to us with a sprained ankle or was that _also_ a lie?"

"No," she flung back, "I'm _also_ lame, but father wanted me to hide my _deformities_ as he calls them, so I sprained my ankle before he _broke_ it. I hear your anger, my lord, but did you _ever_ think that this was my father's doing, or is sitting in council for your trade agreement more important?"

Everything tilted on edge, and he understood Kili's sorrow. His sister-son was disappointed by her deception but saddened by her circumstances. That was the something deeper. His mouth opened, but his will to argue his claim had fled.

"This is madness!" he whispered after a shuddering hesitation. The whole travesty lay before him, and he had no one but himself to blame.

Her fists clenched, and she turned in rage and pain.

"Well, _you should know!_"

* * *

I said it. I said something so horrible that I knew I was going to be thrown from the wall, but I couldn't help it. I was so tired, so angry, so hurt, and so helpless. My resolve broke, and I put my hands over my eyes and sobbed. His breath hissed between his teeth and then nothing. I was ready to die. I was ready to die, then I had this hysterical thought that I'd die in the nicest gown I'd ever owned. A ridiculous end to my life.

I heard him come toward me again, and I whimpered and backed away with my arms up to protect my face, but nothing. Nothing but his breathing. After what seemed like forever, I felt gentle hands on my hurt arm. Careful fingers touched the swelling and felt along the bones.

"Did he do this to you?" he asked in a different voice. "Your father?"

I nodded, and he stretched out my arm and felt along what must be bruises. I moaned a bit when he touched the more sensitive spots. He made noises of understanding and sympathy, but I jerked my arm back.

"No!" I shouted. "You _don't_ get to feel that. You _don't_ get to feel sorry for me to make up for everything! I don't want it, and I won't have it! How _dare_ you after you treated me so shabbily! The _least_ you could do is hate me like an _equal!_"

* * *

Her head was held high, and her unseeing eyes flashed with anger, and he recognized finally, _finally, _what his merchants had described. She almost vibrated she was so upset, and he saw what her people so admired. She had stood toe to toe with the most powerful dwarven king and defended herself. He was surprised and impressed and, in a flash of insight, he saw why those who knew her secret were as well. It was no small thing to take on Erebor and the Durin clan with such disabilities, yet she was clever enough to adapt and find ways around her challenges. Such a feat spoke of enormous determination. However, she was also adept at deception, but he would give her the benefit of the doubt that her father drove her to it.

"This is what you told, Kili, Oin, and Slif then?"

She shook her head.

"Oin found out when he came up to check on my ankle, and Slif when I gave myself away in the kitchens. Kili I told. I wanted to tell you all, but father threatened to kill my guide dog and pony if you found out before the treaty was signed, and I need them to be my eyes indoors and out."

Thorin nodded and then realized she couldn't see it. Now he regretted his high-handed treatment of both her and Kili.

"So he threatened to take away your independence, am I right?"

Her head dropped, and she nodded, all fight gone.

"He uses me to make our people feel sorry for him. It's the only thing's that kept him in power, so he has to make me seem helpless, and he'll go to some lengths to make that happen."

Thorin sat and digested what she told him. His trials had been terrible but hers were unimaginable. Once again, he felt the heat of burning shame. It sat as poorly as the last time.

"He rearranges the furniture at home to make me fall," she said, and he winced. "I keep trying to push on and make do, but sometimes it's too much, and I get so angry."

After asking her permission, he led her to a bench.

He watched her lift her face to warmth of the sinking sun, taking all the joy she could from something so simple, and he swallowed. It was obvious now why she cared nothing for frippery and the trappings of status. He reviewed his efforts to intimidate her and felt coarse and awkward. She never saw what he was doing.

"Can you see _anything?_" he asked. She turned to him, and a shy smile blossomed.

"In sunlight I can see some colors and blurry shapes close up," she said, "but nothing distinct. If the sun is _very_ bright and there aren't clouds in the sky, I can even see pink. When I can see that, I stay outside for as long as I'm able. Sometimes I only see it a few times a year."

Her words pained him even more. He clasped his hands in his lap.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry I misjudged you. Kili means the world to me, but that's no excuse."

She turned to him, and her gaze fell somewhere on his throat.

"That's a lot coming from you," she replied with disarming honesty. "I didn't like you at all, my lord, but this makes up for _most_ of it. It doesn't matter though. Feron is coming for me and then your people will have to find something or someone new to insult. I only ask that you sign the treaty because my people need it. That's the only reason why I'm here. Otherwise, I would have left with Feron the night before we were to travel."

He closed his eyes at her words. _Erebor_, the kingdom he'd fought and nearly died for, the most exalted realm in Middle-earth, had done its best to destroy her reputation and herself. That it hadn't ...

He cleared his throat and watched the sunset and the light play on her skin. She would never see it or see someone smile or look out on grand vistas or memorize tiny details that others cherish. He thought then that Kili requested the gardens because she could navigate through her sense of smell. He had heard that could happen, that other senses could compensate; hence her love of food, her nose for spices, and her exceptional hearing. He wondered if her sense of touch was as well-developed. He sighed and realized once again that humility was required. It was painful for him to admit to, but since he demanded truth from her, he couldn't hide from it himself.

"I understand, but in the meantime, tell me what you need from us … _Areen._"

* * *

**Is this what you were hoping to see, er, read? Either way, please review! Oh, and thank you to those who are following my other stories. You're doing double-readership-duty, and I'm grateful and thrilled. It's nice see that you all are having a good time. That's half the, um, fun. (The other half is writing this stuff!) Thank you Painton for all your wisdom and editing help!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello friends! Here's a summer installment! Have fun with it! Many thanks to a VERY patient Painton who read through two drafts! And thank you to all you wonderful readers who have send the most lovely messages and support. You are a blessing to any writer!**

* * *

**Chapter 21**

_"I understand, but in the meantime, tell me what you need from us … Areen," _the king asked softly.

I had no doubt on the first item. Sky and Summer needed protection. Then I needed to be honest about what was going on, even though the thought of telling him such sordid details made me nervous. And the trade agreement must be signed. Yes, that was important, although I was sure he wouldn't go that far if it wasn't in his best interest. But after those items? What an offer! How much could I ask for, I wondered? Not that I'd be _unreasonable_. Just my own set of chambers next door to a kitchen built to my specifications. Oh, and Lord Boron would take on the _exalted_ role of apprentice stable mucker. Summer would appreciate having someone devoted to cleaning under her tail and with a golden shovel to boot!

"My lord, I need safe haven for my dog and pony," I said firmly, ticking off one finger. The next item was harder to force out, and I dropped my hands in my lap. "I need to tell you everything that's been going on and ... afterwards, I _hope_ you'll still sign the trade agreement."

"I shall order them moved after you have your say," he promised in that low, velvety voice that I imagined had the flavor of a good beef gravy or molasses bread with walnuts. He said nothing about the trade agreement, but I wasn't surprised. Pushing back on the bench, he scraped the heels of his boots against the stone walkway while he tried to find a comfortable position for his legs. The creaking of leather and clinking of chains continued until he grunted his readiness. It was at that fine moment when my determination faltered, and I turned cold with anxiety. Slif was all supportive hugs and funny jokes to dispel any melancholy, but King Thorin seemed to have enough melancholy for the both of us. I blew out my breath in a hasty rush and struggled to form the first word, but nothing came. There was _so_ much to say, and I couldn't decide where to start. All my thoughts tangled into a snarl that one throws away or cuts off because picking it apart is too hard. Finally, I growled with frustration, but then I heard that voice rolling out like a banner flung into the wind.

"I will stay for as long as you need."

"Thank you, my lord" I replied after taking a few deep breaths. "I appreciate that. It's such a knotted story that I'm having a hard time finding where to start."

"At the beginning, Areen," he said in a measured tone. "There's nothing more that needs doing tonight, so I have the time."

I nodded my agreement and started by describing father's descent into madness. I told about the death of his family in a raid when he was little more than a dwarfling, hiding in a tree to watch those he loved slaughtered and despoiled by orcs, only to be taken in by a family who wanted a servant more than a son. Father _was_ a tragic figure, and I couldn't imagine how awful it was for him, but his suffering by no means excused his behavior. King Thorin suffered just as much, but he fought through it. I knew that by how his family and close friends acted. They were happy to be with him, _easy_ when with him. I heard their love for him in their voices. Not so with father. He inspires fear and loathing in most and greed in the rest.

"He wanted so much to have his own children, maybe thinking that they would make up for the loss of his family," I said. "Mother had no trouble getting pregnant, but she miscarried every babe until I came along. I don't know how father felt when he saw that I wasn't a son and that I would be lame for life, but I don't imagine that he took it well. My brother came a few years later, but by then he had changed too much recover."

"Now he's suspicious of everyone and throws his people into prison regularly," I said, my voice growing more irate. "Once a whole family because the children were playing catch, and the ball got away from them and rolled over his boots, leaving mud on his silver buckles. Relatives had to scrounge to buy him a new pair of boots before he ordered their release." My voice dropped. "Periodically, he sends out his guards to find those who criticize him or circumvent his taxes to feed their families. When he finds them ..."

"When he finds them?" King Thorin prodded.

"When he finds them," I continued with enough heat to scorch the bench we were sitting on, "he either banishes them or cuts off their thumbs for treason."

He sat quietly while he digested that piece of information. Of course, punishment exists for a reason, but it had _better_ be exacted for a _very_ good reason and after guilt had been established beyond _any_ doubt. I couldn't imagine King Thorin ever sentencing someone out of spite or paranoia. However, I needed to move on from father before I exploded and decided instead to talk about the Secret Servants. With a big smile, I told King Thorin about those good and courageous ministers who risk execution for what they do—Lord Torfrin and Lord Vinn in particular. They're heroes in my mind, and I described them in glowing terms. They deserve it, Mahal knows!

"The lords in charge of the accounts tell him that the amount brokered for our goods is less than it is so we can distribute the remainder to my people. Father doesn't know about any of this, but he's always on the hunt for dissent, so we have to be careful. I expect that any who are caught would be executed and perhaps their families as well. It's happened before but not for some time. Lord Torfrin and Lord Vinn are the _best_ and _bravest_ of dwarves, and they, along with mother, deserve _all_ the credit for keeping our people together."

"And you and your mother, Areen?" he asked after his breath hitched. "What would happen to you if you were found out?"

I bit my lip, not really willing to go there. Painful death is something we all knew might come our way, but none of us wanted to dwell on that prospect for long. Lord Torfrin and Uncle Vinn kept us focused on the good we were doing and gave us as much encouragement and strength as we had need for. Besides, thinking about execution doesn't exactly bolster courage and keep one wanting to stay the course.

"I try not to think on it, my lord," I said slowly, "but I expect we'd be banished if not worse. I don't think father would have us killed, but I do think that he'd kill those we love as punishment. Sky and Summer would be the first to die and then my friends on some charge."

The king made an undeniably disgusted huff, and my mind skipped to wondering if we could understand each other with only grunts, snorts, and huffs like Summer and Sky communicate. That would be an interesting conversation to say the least.

"We came to near-bankruptcy when father decided to spend most our treasury on grandiose projects and the last of it on a mine that yielded nothing of value. Our kingdom—if you want to call it that—looks impressive, and my people put on a good front for trade, but in truth the average dwarf is destitute. Your down payment was most timely."

Another huff on his part and another question. I was grateful that he was brief and to the point.

"How is it that your herbs and dyes don't supply enough revenue to compensate?" he asked. "Our reports showed that your trade is sufficient for your people and to spare."

"It would be, my lord, if father wasn't so extravagant." I said after a sigh. I laced my fingers to keep calm. "He's determined that the Grey Mountains be seen as a power equal to the Iron Hills or even Erebor, but that pursuit has _no_ hope of success."

King Thorin mumbled under his breath about that being a fool's errand, and then he changed topics. I don't know if he did that for my sake or his, but I needed the reprieve.

"What caused your blindness?"

"A fever when I was nine," I answered, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I fell ill with so many others. Father brushed it off as the usual sickness that comes through from time to time, so he didn't order any preparations. It wasn't. It was a plague, and it swept down on us, killing many though none close to me. Mother tended to me while I recovered, but father never once visited. I did hear him in the hallway asking if I was going to die. He said that he'd rather I die than be a noose around his neck with my blindness."

King Thorin hummed or hmmmd in response. I guess it's ridiculous to say that someone _hummed_ as if they were going to break into song, but he did sound like that. A sonorous tone that very well could have accompanied a dirge or song of mournful longings or lost love. Sometimes mother hums when she's considering something, but this was the first time I could honestly say that a dwarrow did. Maybe he has a good singing voice, and this was an unconscious habit. Then I shook my head to clear my strange thoughts and get back to where I was. I do that a lot. Something strikes me and then my mind jumps to something else completely. I remember doing it when I was young so I wouldn't dwell on painful events. Now it's a habit.

"Areen?"

Ah, yes, he was still there. I plowed on with stories of father rearranging furniture to make me fall and changing the locations of meeting places so I would have to backtrack.

"Then he'd punish me for being late." I said.

The facts of him beating mother came out more slowly, each painful word falling between stutters and stops. After I told him that bit of ugly news, he actually snarled. It wasn't at me, but it was frightening to hear, and I felt goosebumps rising on my arms and legs. Did he do that in battle? I chalked that up to one more reason why he won his war. After talking so long that his ear hair must have grown at least a quarter of an inch, I brought him up to present day.

"After father received your last letter, he ordered me to come here with the understanding that Sky and Summer would die if I didn't fool you into thinking I'm something I'm not," I said, my anger at father's infamy spilling over into my present situation. I felt the king shift on the bench and heard the merest pop of his lips opening, and I had to stop myself before I talked over him. I swallowed with a noisy gulp.

"I _will_ protect your animals, and I ask you to believe that I _will_ take steps to ensure that you are treated as you deserve."

After a moment, I dipped my head. I listened to his undertone and heard nothing but firm resolve, and I must say that went a long way to helping me feel better, but he wasn't done yet.

"My example was not what it should have been," he continued, enunciating each word clearly like he was dictating to his scribe, "and that will change; however, you will encounter animosity because blindness is still considered a ..."

"Curse," I interrupted without thinking. "I know." He noised his agreement.

"There's something else, my lord," I said, almost cringing this time. He made another questioning sound, and I stopped to ask myself if he spent a good portion of his day grunting, noising, and gesticulating his thoughts. He seemed to communicate surprisingly well that way, and it occurred to me that he must get a lot of work done. One grunt, and his counselors could write a new law. The image of long-robed counselors running out the door and drafting a law that used up pots of ink and parchment based on one grunt from the king squeaked out a scoff.

"What is so amusing?" he asked while straightening up with a few more creaks of leather.

"You say more with a grunt than anyone I know," I answered before my rational mind could stop me. "Is that part of princely training?"

He snorted, and his creaking had the rhythmic sound of a quiet chuckle. "It might be at that," he replied. "So this is the real you then?"

I heard the smile in his voice, and I nodded with a pained scrunch of my mouth, my nerves returning. The real me. Just what Kili asked. What if they didn't like the real me? It would only matter until Feron came, but I knew now that they were good and honorable dwarves—if a bit overbearing at times—and I wanted their good opinion before I left. Even in King Thorin's anger I recognized his love for Kili and determination to protect his people. Mama bear indeed, but I couldn't fault him for it really. I guess I would have done the same if I felt someone was threatening my friends or mother. I didn't say anything, and then I remembered that he was waiting for an answer.

"Yes, I suppose so," I replied with a definite cringe, "but I'm afraid that you and the others won't like the real me. I'm such a mix of things that sometimes I think Mahal meant to make two different women but got distracted and slammed me together instead."

He creaked again, a little louder that time.

"You need to be yourself, Areen," he said, his tone reasonable, "whatever that is. We'd not have you play false to please us. That's not honorable."

He made sense but, on the other hand, he was king, so it was easy for him to say. Even so, I never thought I'd be sharing so openly after the start of our rather, um, emotional conversation.

"We've come a long way in a short time, my lord," I said, letting my well-trained posture relax. "For a moment there, I thought I might have to kick you in your tender spots if I could guess where they were."

At that, he creaked even more and made a deep rumble of sounds that had me imagining his head down and his eyes closed and crinkled at the edges. I'd give him white, even teeth now and maybe even a nice smile. He was still a gnarled stump of a tree, but even stumps had their charm.

"You'll get along famously with the company, Areen," he observed. "Of that I am sure."

We didn't say much after that, just sat companionably on the bench and let the time soothe away any remaining tension. Maybe _he_ had some_ excess of feeling_ that _he_ needed to dispel. Still, he never really addressed my fear.

"I'm impertinent," I said into the stillness. He harrumphed this time, a definite "You don't say."

"I am!" I argued. I stabbed at the air and poked him in the chest by mistake. He had moved closer than I thought. "If you want me to be myself ..." I paused and waited for his response. Shifting suddenly, perhaps in surprise at my chest-poking, he noised his agreement. "You know, that can get annoying after a while," I commented. "Anyway, I talk without thinking and end up saying the most inappropriate things—like a moment ago—and my mind wanders too much, so if you want me to be honest, you should know what you're getting yourself into for the next few weeks. Frankly, I told father that he should come with someone else and pass her off as me."

This time he chuckled outright, and the bench shook. I couldn't fault him. Friends have said that I sound a bit touched sometimes. Another thought, a more sober thought, pushed that one out of the way. He must have seen my face change because he stopped at once.

"Did I offend you, Areen?" he asked. I shook my head. Mother's words came into my mind, and I thought that now was the time to ask. Even if we had reached a truce, he was still a busy king, and I was sure that I'd not get this much time with him again.

"No, no, my lord, it's just that mother thought it would be good for me to be here. She said that you have something I need, that you could help me."

I felt his face much closer to mine.

"With what?" he asked.

I shrugged, completely unprepared to answer that question.

"I don't know," I replied, a little put off that mother was so vague. "Perhaps since you recovered from your, um, illness you can help father recover from his, his, uh, condition?"

The king was quiet for a long time, and I wondered what he was thinking. He didn't say.

* * *

Thorin tilted his head while considering her question, his surprisingly good humor dampened by a return to what she had shared. He understood her mother's desperate desire for someone who had overcome madness to help another still mired in it, but her husband's situation differed greatly in that he had closed himself off for years, not days. Surely, he wouldn't listen to a stranger if he wouldn't see those who would be loyal and love him if he gave them the slightest chance. Thorin was also not sure he could keep his composure around her father, now knowing what he did. He had listened to Areen's story with increasing astonishment at the utterly shocking state of affairs.

_This isn't possible, _he thought while he listened to her descriptions of her father's perfidy. But as she continued talking, sometimes haltingly, he realized that the realm of the Grey Mountains was indeed a hotbed of intrigue and deception with its citizens playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a number of rats thrown in for good measure.

_I've never heard of such a thing happening—anywhere. Of course, politics and diplomacy are part and parcel of any kingdom, and factions and special interests abound, but nothing like this._

Nothing like citizens banding together with nobles to hoodwink their lord so that the people didn't starve. Nothing like a queen deceiving her husband to head up a secret society dedicated to stealing from the treasury to keep the kingdom from imploding. Nothing like a lord so depraved that he would torment his blind child for pleasure, and _nothing_ like a dwarf beating his wife for _any_ reason. He had heard of ballads and tales blabbing such stuff and nonsense, and he always scoffed at those in the library who waved hankies while they read, tears streaming down their faces. They dabbed at their eyes with one hand and struggled to turn pages with the other. Even Della confessed to reading a few of the tamer versions.

_This sounds like one of those detestable books written by idle dwarves who don't know a day's hard work. _

Only this time it was a pitched battle to survive with no end in sight.

_Her mother's ordeal deserves another category entirely._

* * *

Maybe he meant to answer me, but the door scraped open before he could.

"Uncle? Areen?" Kili called.

I heard him round the corner quickly and trot toward us. He stopped short and gasped, perhaps at our sitting on the bench instead of hurling vases at each other. I had a sudden image of the king heaving a huge urn at me while I tossed flower pots, both of us surrounded by shards of pottery and slivers of crystal.

"Areen! Your arm! Uncle, you couldn't have. You didn't …?"

By now it felt hot and thick, and I had trouble bending my wrist. Self-consciously, I cradled it and held it against my stomach. If his tone was anything to go by, he was well and truly shocked, but I shook my head in his general direction. Soft mumbles made me think that he was trying to reconcile my injury with my present calm. I opened my mouth to reassure him, but King Thorin beat me to it, his tone firm and no nonsense.

"Her father," was all he said, but his voice gave those two words the weight of a life sentence. The birds sung as before, and the air was as fragrant, but never had father's actions seemed as filthy as King Thorin's voice made them. They were not only sins against me, mother, and our people, but against Mahal himself. Kili murmured in sorrow.

"May I?" he asked with a feather-light touch on my fingers. I held out my arm, and his hands inspected my arm just like his uncle had done an hour before. "It isn't broken, praise Mahal, but Oin should have a look and wrap it. He can make a sling." He put a soft kiss on the back of my hand and patted it with care. "I see you reached an understanding."

I nodded, and King Thorin grunted again then caught himself with a snort. Kili noised his relief. Must be a family trait.

"So what happens now, Uncle?" he asked.

* * *

** What indeed, dear friends? Please review! Let me know you're out there!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Thank you readers for being so patient! I've had a number of you asking when the next chapter will come out, and here it is! I've been posting for my other story, The Reluctant Bridegroom, but now it's Areen's turn. Enjoy and please review!**

* * *

**Chapter 22**

_"So what happens now, Uncle?" Kili asked._

After flopping back and forth on my bed almost until dawn, I woke up the next morning both scared and excited with my stomach trying to decide which emotion it wanted to act on. I can usually talk it down from nausea by tempting it with the promise of a good breakfast, but it reminded me that despite King Thorin's and Prince Kili's support, I'd still have a good percentage of Erebor against me for the effrontery for having gone blind without a by-your-leave. Not that its noble residents would have approved if I had asked. The working classes might be a _bit_ more tolerant, knowing that blindness from accidents in the mines or forges was possible. Warriors, too, might be somewhat sympathetic. Still, it's a feared thing and to many a sign of Mahal's displeasure.

I did have one comfort though, a sleek and silky comfort. Last night, Kitra hesitated to inform me that the laundry had lost my nightgowns and robe. They were threadbare to begin with and stained with liniment, so maybe they'd dissolved in the suds and slipped down the drain as lint. Of course, that left me with two choices: sleep in the altogether or wear one of the satin nightgowns that I was sure—quite sure now—came from my friends. Otha and Kitra didn't have any to spare.

"Who's going to see me anyway?" I had asked. They hummed a chorus of disapproval, and I pictured an ensemble performance with King Thorin.

"Someone might need to meet with you late at night."

"I don't think that such a meeting would take place in my bedroom, for Mahal's sake," I said.

They sighed, and Otha went to get one of the gowns. "The white one," she had said. "It has to be the white one."

"Of course."

Now fully awake, I indulged in a catlike stretch. My old gowns would bunch around my waist in my sleep like they were trying to take themselves off, but this satin one moved with me and felt sumptuous. I couldn't revel in it though because Otha hustled me out of it as fast as she could and into my day gown. She and Kitra did my hair loose again with twin braids by my ears, adding a few baubles on the sides that mother had given me when I was young and we had a fuller treasury. Each one came with memories. My favorite was a silver clasp of a butterfly. She gave it to me after I went blind to remind me that my life wasn't over. I threw it away then but found it later under my dresser. Searching on my hands and knees with my palms patting the floor and fingers scrabbling at crevices and corners, I inched along for more than an hour before I found it, grateful that I hadn't crushed it by mistake. Mother said nothing, but I knew that she was happy when I came out wearing it because she gave my arm a squeeze. I fingered the butterfly clasp in my hair near my temple and whispered a silent prayer asking Mahal to protect her from father's fists. For the first time, I was glad of Lord Boron's interference.

It was almost time for me to face my first panel of judges. Last night, King Thorin and Kili had decided that I should tell the family and company first.

"They are the most tolerant of the oddities of others," King Thorin had said, "being a bit out of the common way themselves."

"So you think me odd, my lord?" I had asked. He humphed and said nothing, but Kili had laughed at his gaffe.

I thought it strange that a dwarf who kept strict standards of royal persnicketyness would have aligned himself with such a bizarre group of dwarves. Then again, it _would_ take a certain type to put up with his moods in close quarters no matter how much they loved him. Oh, and face a firedrake too. Just a small detail. His tone was more considerate after ... everything, so it seemed that my screaming at him was effective. It may even have been the first time someone did, who knows? Unless the company took him on when he was bewitched by his treasure. I imagined them drawing lots to see who had to go into the treasure chamber next. Anyway, I saved our "talk" under the heading of Successful Strategies To Use With Offensive Kings On Rare Occasions.

"How do I look, Kitra?"

"Better than last night," she said. "We have a chance now, and I think with King Thorin's support, we might be able to stay even if things don't work out with the prince. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could escape your ass of a father once and for all? Begging your pardon, Areen."

I told her not to bother apologizing after every insult, and we discussed the merits of staying at Erebor versus Feron whisking me off. Last night Oin had come up after Kili alerted him, tutted at my swollen arm, and gave me something for the pain. Plus one for Erebor. Oin was a definite plus.

"How did he treat you when you had it out, lass?" he had said. I didn't have to ask whom he meant.

"Very well after threatening me, defaming my character, and numerous snide remarks."

"You got off lightly," he said after exhaling with the relief of someone who avoided exile, "which means that me and Slif will too."

I was surprised and felt a little guilty. It should have but hadn't occur to me that they might, just might have faced worse. "I'm so thoughtless, Oin. I was so preoccupied with my troubles that I didn't think about yours, forgive me."

He patted my shoulder and had me drink his tonic. "No worries, my dear. I'm just glad it's over.

Not quite.

Now dressed, coiffed, and prepared, I smoothed my skirts and waited by the door. Kili came as usual to escort me to breakfast but differently than before. He pointed out every nook and cranny of the hallways and stairs, I guess in an attempt to protect me, but all it did was set my teeth on edge. "I can do this, Kili. I don't need you fussing over me. I don't like _fussing._ You weren't this careful when you didn't know I was blind, remember?" He chuckled like one does when caught out then moved on to warn me about the top step. "There are 25 stairs here, Areen, and the last two fan out, so watch your step."

"Kili! I've done before. _We've _done this before. Are you _counting_ stairs now?"

"Oh, sorry." We got to the bottom, and he proceeded to steer me around people in an exaggerated way. It almost felt like we were swaying back and forth, and I'm sure by the huffs and mumbles of dwarves around us that it looked strange. I imagined us swirling and sashaying through the crowds like we were dancing. Mebla might have gushed, but I didn't have to be blind to know that we looked ridiculous.

"Kili!"

"Sorry!"

We came to the doors, and I didn't hesitate this time. I was ready. They opened, and I heard a cacophony of cheerful greetings. Oin complimented my dress, and Slif said that he added nutmeg to the honey buns. From the crunches and soft plunks I heard, it sounded like he was refilling the bread basket. Slif hummed a little tune off-key while the company and family called out which scones and buns they wanted. I don't think he should accompany anybody ... _ever._

After Kili dragged out my chair for me with a scrape, no doubt so I could hear it, I sat down and asked for eggs, ham, and …

"Berry scones, darlin'," Slif said. He leaned over, and I felt his breath in my ear. "I added the sour cream. Sublime!" I laughed and took two, no three.

"How are you this morning, Areen?" Lady Della asked. She had the loveliest voice, and I thought that Fili could have married her for her voice alone. It was smooth and rather deep, not giggly, which always screeched in my ears. It was the voice of a doting mother, a happy wife, and one who had the esteem and respect of her companions. Her undertone was full of good humor, intelligence, and a great deal of patience for the menfolk around her.

"I'm well, thank you, and yourself, Della?"

"Getting larger," she answered with what sounded like a pat of her stomach.

"That's wonderful news." It was. Dwarf pregnancies are fraught with peril, and a healthy one is a blessing.

After a slight jiggle in my chair, I cleared my throat and plunged in. "I have something to say, but first I want to apologize for not being honest with you." Kili squeezed my hand, and I heard a soft rumble from King Thorin and more obvious encouragement from my allies. His Much Majesty gave me leave to continue, and I decided not to preface my words.

"My father wanted me to hide disabilities of mine in order to ensure the trade agreement." That's right. Put it all on father where it belonged.

"Such as?" Bofur asked when I took a much-needed breath.

"The first one's not important, just that one leg is shorter than the other, but the one that matters is that I'm, um, I'm ... blind."

Like twice before, no one spoke, but I heard small shifts in seats and quick breaths. In the meantime, little Frerin slurped his eggs and asked for more fried cakes.

"You mean blind as in you can't see?" Ori asked in a shy and sweet voice.

"Of course!" another one said. I was pretty sure it was his brother, Nori. "What other kind is there?"

"Blinded by greed for one," Bofur said, and the room exploded with comments and speculations.

"Blinded by ambition," Dori said.

"Blinded by love."

"Blinded by the light."

"Blind drunk."

"Not that one, you fool. She's a lady."

"I know _a lot_ of ladies who can tip the bottle." Nori, definitely.

"Shut up!"

"Blind spot."

"Rob someone blind."

"Not likely."

"Turn a blind eye."

"I'm afraid Master Dwarves it's the first one," I said when I could wedge in a word. "I'm mostly blind. Outside I can see some colors and hazy shapes if the sun's bright enough, but indoors I can't see anything."

A few gulps and uncomfortable clearing of throats signaled the end of their amusement.

"Oh, my lady, I'm so very sorry," Balin said. He sounded close to tears. "How awful I made things for you. Please forgive me."

I nodded my head and gave him a polite smile but nothing more. We needed to work on our relationship, and judging by his sigh, he agreed.

"Oh, my poor dear," Della said, and I winced.

"Della," King Thorin said with a deep, displeased rumble. It was heartening to hear it.

"How you must suffer."

"Della," he said a little louder.

"To think that you can't see the faces of those you love …."

"Della," Kili said.

"So sad …."

"Della!" Fili said, having caught on.

"I'd rather no pity," I said after she stopped with a choked gulp, "but I appreciate your sympathy. I'm quite well, thank you, and I've learned to manage."

King Thorin cleared his throat. "As it happens," he said, "Areen has assistance from her trained dog and pony. It would help her immensely if her dog were allowed inside the mountain, and I will order it so, barring any true objections other than convention."

"What about it doing its, you know, business indoors?" Bofur asked at once. I was sure they all had _that_ question. I would have. "Where would it go? We can't have it dropping, you know, in the hallways. It would make smelly piles of mess that anyone could slip on. Can you imagine the skids of poo? Everyone squitching around with it on their heels and kicking the chunkier parts? Not to mention old piss." I heard a clatter of forks and spoons falling on plates. Someone stifled a retch. Sometimes it's the juxtaposition of images that changes a person's perspective. Poo in the wilds was a given, but poo on marble floors was a tickle of the gag reflex.

"Such a shame for good food to go to waste," Bombur said. A clack of plates pushed his way, and he set about shoving as much as possible into his mouth. "Maybe someone can be assigned to clean up after it," he said, barely able to speak. I flicked away the crumbs that he sprayed with every word.

"Would it make noise?" Gloin asked. At least I thought it was Gloin. "We can't have a dog disrupting business."

"Areen?" King Thorin said. I knew what he wanted, and I didn't hesitate. Feron did a wonderful job training her. Plus one for him.

"My dear friend, Feron, trained her to eat and do her business during her daily walks. She won't bark or growl unless she thinks I'm in danger, but that rarely happens." I didn't bother to tell them what she thinks about father and Lord Boron. Once she lifted a leg against father's esteemed minister. I gave her special treats that day.

"I understand it's unprecedented," King Thorin said in tones that warned the others that any more objections had better be good, "but so is her situation, and we must make adjustments to meet our people's needs, so what say you?"

They "ayed" without hesitation, and tears smarted my eyes.

_Our people._ That sounded … nice. No, that was too dull a word. It sounded wonderful, _magical_. Right there, right then, I saw what a king should be, and he was so unlike father that it took my breath away, and not only him. They all agreed with firm voices after deliberating fairly. No schemes, no jockeying for influence or power. Kili's aye was clear and sure. I wasn't fool enough to think that everyone at Erebor was so noble, but I understood then why King Thorin continued to associate with his company long after the job was done. They might be odd, but they had loyal, faithful hearts. I might even be happy at Erebor, and I pushed my decision about Feron off for the time being. But what about Kili? I wasn't sure that what we had would blossom into more since our relationship was riddled with deception from the start, but we were making a new beginning, and that they didn't even hold my lies against me was a delightful start. I judged it a plus two for Erebor.

"So let's see the wolf now," Fili asked. "I hear she's a brute."

All but Della insisted on going with me down to the stables to see the consequences of their decision. The stable master gasped at the Royal House of Durin descending on him along with the famous company, and he stuttered and I'm sure bowed until his nose touched the ground.

"Stable master," King Thorin said, "we've come to see to Princess Areen's dog and pony."

"Of course, my lord." After a slight pause, he addressed me with huffs and splutters. "More trouble, my lady, yes, trouble, but I took care of them right off. They didn't get past me, no, they didn't on my honor."

I heard a growling sound, and it didn't come from Sky. "What happened this time?" I asked.

"This time?" King Thorin was right on my heels. "What happened?"

"Her father's guards came to take her pets, Your Majesty." _Very Much Majesty. _

"They came back to the stables, my lady, even pushing me aside," he said, "but I got my pitchfork and my stable hands, and I said that I had king's orders to see that no one else has access to them. Begging your pardon, my lord, but I didn't know what else to say."

The king wasn't pleased to have his stable master issuing orders in his name, but he asked him to continue.

"They said that they came on your father's authority, but I said that I don't answer to anyone but the King of Erebor."

I heard that long suck in of breath again, and a slight snicker behind me told me that someone else found it as funny as I did, but I wouldn't tease him for the world. He saved their lives.

"I thank you, Nifil. You did the right thing. Please bring them out now," King Thorin said. He knew his _name?_ Father never knew anyone outside his tiny circle. Kili and Fili agreed, and Nifil was all too pleased to accept their thanks and gratitude. I smelled nervous sweat, and I wasn't sure if it came from him or me. That was too close a call.

He trotted away to the back of the stables, and I heard him unlatch the chain. "Atta girl, your mistress has come for you. Good girl."

I crouched slightly and held my arms out, trying to prepare for her greeting, and she bounded toward me with happy yelps.

"Mahal!" Fili said. "She's huge!"

With a loud bark, she jumped up and put her paws over my shoulders and licked my face. On the ground, the tops of her ears come up to my shoulder.

"Sky, Sky, that's enough now. Sky! We have company!" I heard the chuckles of those around me, then Nifil led out Summer who whinnied her relief. Sky barked, and she stamped her feet in answer.

"It isn't always like this," I said, somewhat anxious that King Thorin might change his mind. "They've been cooped up to keep them safe."

"I understand, Areen."

Sky ran back and brought out her harness and stood still while I put it on. It was old, and certain buckles were bent out of shape, but so long as she was comfortable, I was satisfied.

"Now Sky," I said, "I want to introduce you to some new friends," and they were generous with their compliments. I took her first to Kili, and she wagged her tail and licked his hand. After doing the same to Bofur, Ori, and Dori, I took her over to Lord Balin, and I was surprised to hear a low sound, not quite a growl, but not the open friendliness she had shown the others.

"Ah, well," he said, "I see I have fence-mending to do," and he backed away to give her some distance. I led her toward King Thorin last, but she sat on her haunches, unwilling to budge.

"Sky," I said, now embarrassed, "he's the king, and we mustn't be rude. We worked things out."

In response, she licked my hand and padded over to him. A yank on the thongs let me know that she was displeased with the assignment. "Please hold out your hand, my lord, palm up, so she can see you're not a threat." He must have done what I asked because she sniffed again. With a small snort and the merest lick of his hand, she told everyone that she wasn't impressed and that she was humoring me.

"It's quite all right, Areen," King Thorin said, almost with a sigh, "although I hope she'll change her mind someday."

I nodded with relief. "Of course, my lord," and I turned to Summer. She pawed the ground, impatient for attention. Coming forward, she bumped her head on my shoulder.

"And this is Summer," I said with no small amount of pride. Another plus for Feron. The others murmured with appreciation. I was told that she is a beautiful pony with a glossy chestnut coat, mane, and tail. Her eyes are dark brown, and she has dainty hooves—that I know for myself.

"She's a beauty," Kili said. King Thorin stepped forward, and she blew in his face.

"You have allies, Areen," Fili said with undeniable merriment. "Uncle, it seems that your behavior's preceded you."

"I regret the misunderstanding," he said in his grumpy tone.

"Now, now, Summer, King Thorin and I are friends now," I said, "so you need to be nice." Nori and Kili laughed at her defiant snuffles.

"If you could only see the look on her face," Nori said, not caring if he gave offense. I was happy it didn't occur to him.

Stroking her back, I sighed and patted her forward. She trotted over then, and I thought she put her nose in his hand as a gesture that all was well. "If she put her nose in your hand, my lord, you may stroke her on her neck. She also likes getting her ears scratched." I heard sounds of him doing just that, and she nickered with contentment.

"I won one of them over at least. Are you ready, Areen?"

"Yes, my lord." I took up Sky's harness and felt the familiar thrill of tension traveling along the leather thongs, the link between us reestablished after too long. Sky sat on her haunches, perfectly still, waiting with her ears twitching for the first word. With her harness on and my hand on the straps, we became one. We thought as one and moved as one. I am never more comfortable than when she is with me. With her, I'm myself again, fully myself.

_"The transformation is astonishing, Areen," mother said the first time I prepared to go outside with Sky. "You stand so tall and proud. It's almost as if you can ..." _

_"See?" _

_"Yes," she said, "exactly that." _

_"She's my eyes." _

The dwarves mumbled something to each other, and I wondered if they noticed.

Nifil had gone back to his duties after being dismissed, but he came back when Kili called for him.

"Sky will be coming with us, Nifil, so you need not worry about her anymore."

"But Summer will be lonely without her friend." I smiled at his attachment to them.

"Sky will come out for walks and meals," I said, "so they can visit then. It was that way at home, so they know the routine."

He agreed but couldn't help asking, "Why are you taking her inside? My lord, I thought animals weren't allowed inside the mountain."

With perfect confidence I replied, "Because I'm blind, and she's my guide dog."

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**I hope the wait was worth it!**


	23. Chapter 23

**OK friends, here's another chapter before I shuffle back to The Reluctant Bridegroom. Thank you, thank you to all who wrote reviews, PMs and more! dearreader, it's always a pleasure to have you comment no matter what story!**

* * *

**Chapter 23**

I gave the word, and Sky pulled on the straps but with her customary slow gait, expecting me to limp behind her. I smiled and urged her to go faster, and she perked up to move in step with everyone else. Balin stayed behind to explain matters to Nifil—I hope not as penance. He had been as loud as the others in wanting to help me, and it was time to start anew.

"What is she, anyway?" Bofur asked. "A wolf?"

I had asked that very question when I got her about 15 years ago, and the answer was no—mostly no to be precise. I had laughed when I first came to Erebor and the stable hands saw Sky. My mind drifted as it usually did, and I couldn't help thinking about the day I met her.

* * *

It was an overcast day after a lot of rain when Feron walked me over to a bench near a small knoll and helped me sit down.

"Now don't move," he had said. "We have a surprise."

"We?" I had waited for a few minutes when I heard a dwarf coming toward me. From his arrogant snickers, I knew it was Norvin, the son of one of father's cronies. He'd plagued my life from the moment he learned that I outranked him. Mebla, Tildur, and Feron always closed ranks around me when he came around. When we were children, his pranks were annoying but harmless. As he got older, however, they turned malicious and cruel, not only to me but to anyone he disliked, which was everyone I cared about. I often wondered if he was on father's payroll.

"Are you waiting for your master? Who's going to walk you this time?" he had said. "All that's missing is the leash."

"One of the blessings of being blind, Norvin," I had said after having endured three attempts to humiliate me in one week, "is that I don't have to see your blotchy face. Does it still looks like a rose bush after all these years? Did you escape your plot when the gardeners came to prune?"

He had stomped toward me with angry mutters before I heard his surprised yelp followed by a wet plop into what smelled like fresh horse droppings. With a little help from my friends, he had fallen into the stinky pile. I imagined that he looked like a dirty nappy.

"It was time to fertilize," Tildur had said with a good deal of smug pride. "Too bad the pile wasn't bigger," Mebla added. A series of huffs and grunts sounded behind them. It was Feron taking care of the noxious weed. If memory serves, he had pushed Novin's nose into the mess, saying something about tilling the soil. No one felt an ounce of remorse since they had recently escaped a near maiming from the aforementioned.

"C'mon, Areen," Feron had said. "Don't let this sprout of a dwarf bother you." We left him sputtering on the ground while we headed to the gardens.

They—along with mother—had planned this surprise for weeks, and when I reached her and Lord Vinn, he handed me a big, mewling ball of fluff.

"We got her from a litter of guard dogs from the Iron Hills, complements of my brother-in-law," he had said. "She comes with an excellent pedigree, and Feron here will train her so you can find your way around by yourself."

"By myself?" I tried to keep hold of the squirming ball. "Feron, you can do that?"

He had been cheerful about it, acting like it was no effort. I suppose it wasn't, looking back on it. He'd always loved dogs, and here was his excuse to have one around. She was beautiful with a long, pointed nose, triangular ears, and thick fur.

"What is she?" I asked. There was a shifting of feet, and I wasn't sure what that meant.

"Now don't be alarmed, Areen," mother had said. "They've been bred for generations, so they're just dogs now."

"_Just _dogs? What were they before?"

Uncle Vinn dithered for a minute before he answered.

"No one's sure, but rumor has it that the first set of parents were the offspring of wargs and wolves. She will be large though and live much longer than ordinary dogs, so there might be some truth there about the warg part."

"Feron, are you sure you want to take this on?"

"It'll be an adventure, Areen."

* * *

Now that mewling ball of fluff was a mass of muscle. I came back to myself and remembered Bofur's question, wondering how my answer would strike my hosts. King Thorin did say yes, he did, and he wouldn't go back on a promise now. I was sure of that. I was.

"Well, rumor has it that generations ago, the first pups were the offspring of wargs and wolves."

A moment of silence followed that sentence, and Sky stopped when they did. They all walked off, and a low grumble let me know that they were discussing something they didn't want me to hear. I caught snatches anyway.

"What if she gets edgy and tries to take a bite?"

"Not a bad idea since you need to lose some weight, Bombur."

"She looks fearsome."

"She's _supposed_ to look fearsome, but she's been trained."

"To do what?"

"To take a snack out of your behind. Leave her be. It'll be fun."

"Think that will you when she has you backed in a corner and there's no one around?"

"You're making her sound like a warg."

"Isn't she?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"She's a dog."

"Warg."

"Dog! And Areen needs her."

"I say she stays."

"Which one?"

"Both."

"I hope we don't rue this someday."

"We won't. You'll see."

"I see just fine."

I heard footsteps coming my way. Most of the grumbling had died down, but I knew that not everyone was thrilled with her coming inside or her being there at all.

"Well," Bofur said gamely, "it'll be an adventure."

We were close to the main entrance now, and King Thorin said that we shouldn't hide Sky. I agreed. They were going to see her soon enough anyway.

"Do you need help up to the gate?" Kili asked. I shook my head. "We know what to do." The small flight of stairs that led to and from the stables was no problem. Sky was already getting used to our new rhythm, and I thought that she enjoyed the faster pace. She never tugged on the straps or leaned forward to pull me along faster than I could walk, but I detected a new sprightliness, and I was happy for it. As we made our way to the main entrance though, I couldn't help slowing, and Kili stepped up to my elbow. "Do you want to take my arm?"

He was sweet, a dear, really, and I wasn't annoyed this time. "Thank you, but I want to do this on my own. Having you all around me is already more than I could have asked for."

"It's our pleasure, Areen," Fili said a bit loudly. "You and Sky make a _great_ team. We made the _right_ decision." That was heartwarming to hear. I hoped that Della and I would become friends, and I was already in a fair way in love with little Frerin. Yes, another plus for Erebor. They were beginning to add up.

"Are the gate chains in good repair, Areen?" Very funny.

"Yes, Nori, although I hear a scrape on the left. Needs more grease perhaps."

Everyone stopped and listened. "Hmmm, so it is," I heard from the back.

"See that the left gate chain is tended to," Fili said to a guard who had come up to greet them.

Someone else moved up to walk beside me then, and I didn't need to guess who it was. I already recognized the heavy, purposeful stride of the king.

"Of course, you will attract attention, Areen," he said, "but we will return to the dining hall so that you and Sky can catch your breath."

"My thanks, Your Majesty."

"Not at all."

I imagined what it must have looked like for us all to walk in there with a dog leading the way. Little by little, the bustling noise in the entrance hall and some ways beyond faded until all I could hear were the scattered voices of those who hadn't caught on yet. We didn't stop walking, and I could feel eyes on me, a weight, a pressure of assessment and opinion. Even more unsettling, I heard the cavernous silence of the mountain, a loud silence that made me realize how much I had underestimated its size. If I had my sight, I'm sure that I would have stopped to look up and gape at the highest ceiling in Middle-earth. I couldn't help looking up anyway, just to complete my imagining. "Must be Mordor to dust," I muttered. A choked cough answered me.

A little further down, pounding steps and grumbling voices made their way closer. _Unhappy_ voices and steps meant to intercept us.

"My lord," one of the voices asked, "may we ask what _this_ is?"

King Thorin cleared his throat, took a deep, resonant breath, and said, "A dog." Suppressed chortles and snickers sounded behind me while those opposite hissed with irritation.

"And why is this _animal_ allowed inside the mountain, my king?"

His voice carried, and I knew then that he was challenging King Thorin's decision and maybe even authority in this matter. I wondered who he could be to do such a bold—and in my mind foolhardy—thing. This dwarf must have been someone of great importance because the noise behind me retreated into respectful attention. Except for Fili and Kili. With defiant huffs, they stepped up to their uncle in a show of force for my sake, and I couldn't help the smile on my face. They acted almost like the brothers I wished I had when I was younger. Even so, I wanted to back away, but I didn't dare in this first standoff. I knew that if I cowed now, my life would be that much harder. Sky took one step forward and sat on her haunches, but I could tell from the tension on the straps that she was on alert. I guess I expected some long-winded argument with waving arms, but it was nothing of the sort.

"Because I said so."

No one breathed. I know I didn't. There was such authority, confidence, and finality in his voice that the dwarves, whomever they were, retreated like chastened children—for the moment. With four words, King Thorin broke the hold over the dwarves of the mountain, and everyone went back about their business, although every conversation that I could hear had something to do with us. The council had backed off, but not for good if their mutters on leaving were any indication. "Come, Areen," and with a slight touch of his hand on my elbow, we set off again.

"I don't know why he _always_ sees fit to challenge uncle in front of everyone," Kili said.

"Especially when he _always_ loses," Fili said. They laughed, and Fili moved up to walk alongside me. "Don't trouble yourself about them, Areen. Uncle's council of Dwarven History and Tradition is an honorary position given to nobles without any appreciable skill."

"Fili," the king rumbled, "don't give them cause to write _another_ petition."

"But the nerve of them," Dori said, "always publishing 'guidelines' that sound like edicts. I stopped paying attention when they said that boot laces can't be more than an inch wide. Who cares about such things?"

"Those who have nothing better to do," Ori said.

"Maybe they're the ones to clean up after Sky then."

A round of hearty laughter traveled up the stairs and didn't stop until we were at the door.

"My, she's large," Della said when we reentered the dining hall. "Is she gentle?"

"Yes, Della, very gentle," I said. "I'd not bring her here otherwise."

"Of course, you wouldn't. How foolish of me."

Sky yanked on the straps, dragging me straight to her, and stuck her nose in a most private place. "Sky!" Della tried pushing her away, but Sky knew what I did, and she was determined to investigate.

"She knows you're expecting, Della, but I'm so sorry that she …"

"Stuck her nose where it didn't belong?" Bofur said to the amusement of all.

"No harm done, Areen," she said a little out of breath. I heard her efforts to extricate herself from Sky's persistent snuffling. "I'll just take a seat."

"Dog!" Frerin squealed, and he ran around to see her. I heard quick intakes of breath, and King Thorin made some noise, but I was quicker.

"Sit!" She obeyed, and Frerin came perhaps within arm's length before his father warned him off. Some of the others grumbled about Sky eating Frerin whole.

"Now, son, you have to say hello first and let her lick your hand to say hello back." He giggled and must have stuck out his fingers because I heard her lapping at him and his excited motions. I knew she wouldn't hurt him, but I was relieved nonetheless. Thanks to the doubters behind me, I had imagined his kicking feet sticking out of her throat and King Thorin, Kili, and Fili trying to pull him out. I shook my head, and the image disappeared.

"Tickles!" Sky made soft sighs, and Della cooed.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"Frerin's hugging Sky around the neck," Fili said. "It's official. She stays. Dear, I think we're going to have trouble getting our son to sleep tonight."

"I believe you're right."

Frerin came around to me, and I felt a piece of crinkled paper shoved in my hand.

"Look!" My face fell, and I turned to the others. "What do I say?" For the first time in a long time, I felt terrible about being blind. It was always worst explaining to a child. They didn't understand and tried so hard to make it better. It was heartbreaking—always.

"Tell him the truth," Fili said.

"Isn't he too young?" Della asked. King Thorin made a disapproving sound.

"He can and should understand, Della. Areen's been forced to lie long enough."

After hesitating, she murmured her agreement, and I sat down and reached for him. When I had him securely on my lap, I felt for and took the piece of paper.

"Look! Look!"

Tears stung my eyes, but I willed them back. "Frerin, I can't see the drawing." He pushed it up against my nose, but I pulled it down and held it in one hand. He wriggled on my lap, thinking it was a game. "Here it is!"

"No, Frerin." I tried again. "I can't see your picture because my eyes can't," and I screwed them closed, trying to shut out his inevitable confusion and disappointment, "because my eyes can't see."

A tear slipped down one cheek but, to my surprise, I felt his chubby fingers pat my eyelids.

"Wake up," he said in a lisping whisper, touching my lids with each word. "Wake up."

I bent my neck and met his forehead. A deep, sobbing sigh came out of my throat before I could stop it. No one spoke. He patted the sides of my cheeks and giggled like it was a new game. "Frerin, my eyes aren't asleep. They're … broken."

He stopped his patting, and I breathed in and out in measured doses. Putting his hands on my ears, he pulled them with a jerk and pressed his nose in the corner of my eye.

"Wake up!" he yelled, perhaps hoping that a good shout might startle them into sight. I felt desperate before I remembered that I could see in my own way.

"Frerin, sweetheart, listen," and I held him by his shoulders, trying to judge where his face was. "I don't see with my eyes, I see with my fingers. Can I show you?" Thankfully, he was intrigued, and I sensed a lessening of tension in the room. "Now close your eyes."

The others murmured, and I heard them coming closer to watch. I closed my eyes too, although I didn't need to. Funny how habits remain long past their usefulness. I used to close my eyes when I concentrated, and I still do. Even after so many years, my head will still turn look at something as though it didn't get the message that my eyes are out of service.

Leaning in, I started with the top of his head and ran the pads of my fingers along his hairline, over his ears, and down his forehead—just like I had done with Feron. He bounced and trilled at the sensation. "My, you are so handsome!" I pulled my hands away, and he grabbed them and planted them back on his face.

"Again! Again!"

I felt down his face, tapping my fingers over his nose, his cheeks, and his lips with a whisper of touch. I learned years ago that people don't like having their faces kneaded like dough or pressed like potter's clay, so I taught myself how to touch over someone's face so I could see them without it being uncomfortable. He was a beautiful dwarfling, and his smile was a balm to my heart. All was well, and so was I, or at least I would be.

"What color is his hair?"

"Blond like gold," Fili said, his voice oddly strained. "Like mine."

"And his eyes?"

"Hazel like his mother's."

"Do you do this often?" Kili asked.

"Not at all," I said. The thought of seeing them or the company with my fingers was laughable, but I held it in. Well, Kili maybe, but the others? Ha! "I wouldn't presume. Only with my closest friends."

* * *

Late at night, after Frerin went to bed and Erebor was quiet, Thorin, Fili, and Kili gathered in the family common room around glowing coals with goblets of wine in their hands. They watched the flames without speaking, their conversation having petered out after discussing the good and the bad of the day. Thorin pushed up in his chair and reached over to refill the goblets. Kili waved away his unspoken offer.

"No, thank you, uncle," he said, his tone dull. "I'll finish what I have first."

After taking another sip, they focused on the fire, their expressions changing according the light flickering on and off their faces, but their thoughts rested uneasily on what had happened between Areen and Frerin. Her sorrow and slight fingers touching along his face was a wrench, and they felt it. Fili broke the silence first.

"I didn't think she'd get so upset with Frerin. Should I teach him not to …? Should we tell him not to …?"

"No," Thorin said, "she'll deal with it as she always has. She's probably forgotten it by now." He hoped so at any rate.

"I haven't," Fili said, and Kili sighed in agreement.

"Nor have I," he said. "When I first saw her blindness ..." He grimaced at the pun. Casting about for the right words, he stretched his neck and looked to his brother, but Fili was no help. "When she first told me, I thought about what she goes through, but tonight I _felt_ what she goes through. Does that make any sense?"

Thorin dipped his head. He was more affected than he wanted by the little scene that had played out in front of him. For all her protests of being independent and able to manage, she was undone by a child, and he felt an instinctive clench of his gut. A furtive look at his sister-sons told him that they were just as troubled.

"She's strong sometimes and fragile sometimes," Kili said. "I don't know how to handle that."

"That's not just Areen, brother, but any woman," Fili said with wry grin, "and we have _our_ moments, well, maybe not uncle."

Thorin groused at Fili's gentle poke then turned to Kili.

"I must apologize to you for being presumptuous," he said. "I tried to dictate your life, and I'm sorry. I had no right."

Kili dropped his head, his eyes focusing on the garnet liquid in his goblet, the inch that remained. His thoughts were clouded, and he shook his head, unable to focus. His brother said what he was too muddled to think.

"This is more than we bargained for, isn't it, uncle? What do we do now? What about Areen?"

Thorin cast a glance at Kili, who had sunk down in his leather chair with his legs spread apart.

"What do you think, Kili? Do you care for her? Enough for her to stay? If not, we'll have no say in what happens to her unless he breaks the law here."

"Hasn't he already?" Kili asked. His voice was low and harsh. "Mahal, first she sprains her ankle so he wouldn't break it ..."

"_What?_"

"It's true, brother," he said. "Then he twists her wrist before she meets with uncle."

Fili's face was a mixture of astonishment and outrage.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, now hurt as well.

"It wasn't my secret to tell, Fili," Kili said.

"Nor mine," Thorin said. He exhaled with the pain of one whose wound had lodged deep in the heart. "_And_ he beats her mother," he added. His nephews turned to him in horror, and Fili spilled some of his wine on the end table. "No!" he said. "This is _insane!_"

"Evidently, so is he," Thorin replied. He tipped his goblet and swallowed, remembering the tension between Areen's father and his minister when he walked up. Replaying events in his mind, he realized that Lord Boron must have seen what had happened. Perhaps this Lord Boron could be counted on. She didn't mention him when they talked, and he was attentive.

_Almost too attentive, but perhaps he was trying to protect her._

"Kili, do you want her to stay?"

The younger Durin pursed his lips, unable to form a clear answer. His fingers rubbed the stem of his goblet, swishing the claret in circles around the bowl.

"I'm fond of her, uncle, and I feel sorry for her, but again I feel pressured to make a decision." He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I want to fall in love because it happens, not because it's forced, even if the reason's a good one."

"Yes," Thorin said, "but perhaps it _will_ happen if she stays. Fondness is a start. Otherwise, you'll need to let her go."

"With that friend of hers?" Fili asked. "Maybe he's the answer to all this. She'd be safe then. What's his name?"

"Feron," said Kili and Thorin together.

"Do you think she'd be happy with him?" Fili wanted to know.

Thorin shook his head and grimaced. "It's not for us to determine her happiness. But why would she stay otherwise? She'd have no place here."

"How long until the caravan gets here?" Fili asked. Thorin tilted his head while he considered.

"They should be here within two weeks, I expect, unless they meet with foul weather or other obstacles. The supplies will slow them down." It was Thorin's turn to rub his brow. "I'll deal with her father when he returns." He stared into the fire, and his face turned stern. "I am not looking forward to that conversation, but he will know what it means to face the King of Erebor."

"I want to be there."

"And I."

Thorin nodded his agreement. "In the meantime, we and Areen will have a few weeks of peace."

"The fever?" Kili asked.

Thorin sighed. The news wasn't good. Dale was preparing to close its gates, having stocked all it needed. Bard had done a good job, but Dale's requirements were miniscule compared to Erebor's. After he announced his intention to suspend trade and close the gates, Thorin worked with those in charge of the larders to prepare for rationing. Extra storerooms had been set aside for cured meats, barrels of salted fish, dried fruits and vegetables, wheels of cheese, and sacks of grain among other food stuffs. No trade would go in or out for the time it would take for the fever to die out. Perhaps as long as two months. After rechecking the figures, he had visited the larders to see for himself that preparations were on schedule. Smoke rooms were full of beef and pork, and canners were working as fast as they could to pickle and preserve all that was left. Caravans still on the road were ordered not to have contact with anyone on the way, so they withdrew to camp off the roads until they reached the mountain. Storerooms set aside for wheat, barley, and rye were almost full. Thankfully, water was never an issue, although Thorin ordered the winter cisterns opened just in case. Even with all their efforts, he calculated that they would need another two weeks.

"All reports show that it's spreading. We'll need to close the gates soon."

"They need to make it here before then."

"Yes, they do."

* * *

**Since it's my story and I can do what I like (that's the fun part), I'm allowing wargs to be longer-lived than dogs owing to their breeding as war machines. I figure that they'd have to be pretty hardy to deal with orcs, so that's why Sky can be older and still in her prime. She looks a like an overly large husky, which would be enormous to dwarves. Thanks to Painton who is so patient with my shifting verb tenses. Pesky things. Still didn't get them right, but c'est la vie! Please review!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hello dear readers! It's been awhile, but summer's over, and school's a bear this year, so I can't post as often as I'd like. That said, I managed to get a chapter out, and I hope you enjoy. Please let me know that you're still out there!**

* * *

**Chapter 24**

Now that I had Sky back with me, I relaxed. Well, somewhat, that is. It's always a matter of degree. The Durins and company had stood by me, and that was a relief, but now there were new obstacles to replace the old.

My peace of mind was like a pie—a large berry pie with a lattice top and nicely browned edges—and annoyances and general irritations were mere nibbles of the crust. Disapproval of Erebor's dwarves at my walking about with Sky yesterday was a stolen forkful or two. Worrying about the outrage my blindness would cause was a slice cut out with a spoon. That fact would come to light—so to speak—soon, and my shoulders tightened at the thought. I was used to the faction at home who Mebla always said made the traditional ward-off-evil sign whenever I was around, but here I was a stranger, and rank never outweighed what dwarves considered a bad risk. No doubt King Thorin discovered that fact for himself when he tried to cook up support for his quest.

I didn't relish facing perhaps a majority of Erebor's dwarves without my friends. Whom did I have here who would be with me during the day since Slif had asked Otha and Kitra to help him pickle as many vegetables as he could get his hands on? The Durins had affairs of the realm to manage and, even more urgently, preparations to wait out a plague. What was a concern had become a restrained panic—a contradiction in terms but true. I credited King Thorin with keeping everyone calm, at least in public. Della might have more time to spare, but I didn't think I'd see much of the others. If they'd let me, I'd explore Erebor, do what I could to help, and cuddle Frerin for as long as I could. I also hoped to go outside again. I wasn't used to such long stretches of determined darkness. With a sigh, I dressed and waited for Kili to escort me to breakfast. He was later than usual.

* * *

Kili had just finished lacing his breeches when Fili opened the door.

"A little late, aren't you, brother?" Fili asked with a smug smile at his brother's toned physique. "Or are you intending to dazzle her shirtless?"

"Mine or hers?" Kili asked with decided sarcasm. Fili flushed before laughing at his unintended play on words. His brother merely quirked a brow, and Fili's sunny smile dropped.

"Forget deciding whether to pursue her, Kili," he said. "Just enjoy her company." Kili scoffed at his words and pulled on his boots before reaching for a crimson tunic.

"I have duties to attend to, or have you forgotten?" he asked while lacing his boots. Fili hadn't, but he dismissed his brother's words with the back of his hand. "Nothing that can't be delegated. You were supposed to entertain her anyway, so why wouldn't you want to spend time with her now?"

"To what end? She's leaving in a few weeks."

At that Fili grew stern. "Whatever your feelings or lack of them, she's still a guest, so the least you could do is make her feel comfortable. Why are you acting like this? You were much friendlier to her before."

With a rub of the bridge of his nose, Kili sighed and looked down at the ground. He had had plenty of brief and innocent flirtations in his time with saucy scullery maids and tradesmen's daughters, but this was different. Areen wasn't either, and he felt an unpleasant mix of nervousness and concern. What was she thinking? What was she feeling? He was surprised by how often those questions had entered his mind of late.

_Entered and overstayed their welcome._

He had to admit though that Fili had hit the bullseye. Why was he being so hesitant about Areen? She was funny, kind, and disarmingly blunt. Far from too-correct courtiers and even worse mothers and daughters who constantly contrived to "run" into him—sometimes literally. He imagined their response when they found out that she was blind.

_That news will travel faster than a raven, and what then?_

Reflecting on her time in his home, he winced at his words. Areen had done nothing to warrant his frustration. He rubbed one hand on his stubbled chin. Was he really thinking about ignoring her because he was confused about his feelings? He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth and felt his face flush with shame.

_Must be what uncle felt. I won't make his mistakes though._

Taking a deep breath, he acknowledged his brother with new determination. Fili's brows inched up at the sudden change.

"You're right," Kili said, "I'm being selfish. We've much to atone for as it is, and she could use some fun. Don't make anything of it, Fili, but I do enjoy her company. We can plan a few diversions for her on the condition"—he trained fierce eyes on his brother—"that you and uncle leave us be."

"Us?" Fili asked with a glint in his eye, but Kili refused the bait and held his arm out instead to usher Fili to the door.

* * *

The brothers came to get me and, with cheerful "Good mornings," looped their arms through mine. It was a surprise to find both of them at my door but a welcome one. "We insist," Kili said with a tighter hold on my arm. I wasn't sure if he was saying it to me or to Sky who sounded a bit put off that her usual job was usurped by a pair of charming dwarves and very handsome ones too if Otha and Kitra were right, and I had no reason to think otherwise.

"What would you like to do today, Areen?" he asked. I was surprised by his question. Surely he had official somethings to attend to. I'd been in Erebor long enough to know that King Thorin ran a tight mountain and didn't tolerate idleness. One poor dwarf who had been walking a tad slow for the king's taste yesterday heard a booming, "Move it along," echo in the halls. I heard his yelp and boots scraping on the floor as he hustled away. My mind returned to Kili's question, and my surprise must have shown because he patted my arm. "_You_ are our official duty until your friends come." An initial surge of gratitude was met by sudden fear.

"You won't close the gates on them, would you? You wouldn't, would you?" The answer was in their sighs.

"Uncle will keep them open for as long as possible, Areen," Fili said, his voice already apologetic. "As far as we know, the fever hasn't touched our lands yet nor Dale's, so we have some time, but if we get word …." He paused, unsure how to finish but, really, he already had.

"I understand." I did. I didn't want anything to happen to Feron and Uncle Vinn or anyone else traveling with them, but I'd never expect King Thorin to put so many at risk for the lives of a few. It didn't occur to me until later that I had forgotten about father leaving to oversee the shipment. Perhaps something would keep him at home.

"But since the gates aren't closed, we thought we might take advantage of a cloudless sky and have a little picnic outside," Kili said.

"We did?" Fili asked. He dropped my arm. "You can't be serious, Kili. The plague? Reports of orcs near the borders of Mirkwood?"

"The plague won't come on the wind, Fili," Kili argued, "and all reports say that the elves appeared to have killed them all. We went to fight a dragon without a second thought, brother, so how can you have a care about a picnic? We'll not go far nor stay long. It's the first bright day since Areen came, and we should take advantage of it."

Despite my best effort, I made a squeak of excitement. To go outside was a necessity at home and, as large and interesting as Erebor seemed to be, it was still confining. The air was well-ventilated but unmoving, and I felt like the same air had been breathed over and over for hundreds of years. The notoriously bad breath of a dragon didn't help matters.

"I don't think it's wise," Fili said, both his over and undertones filled with doubt.

"We'll not be able to leave after the gates close," Kili said, "and who knows how long that will be?"

Fili's humphed but in the end, he had to admit that he could use a little walk about himself. "I wouldn't mind a break from uncle's council. The last time I ran into them, they told me that they were drafting a list of acceptable color schemes. Well, let's go eat before the company scrapes the platters bare." We hurried to the room and heard a cheerful din waiting for us. Kili told King Thorin what he was planning, and he was even less enthusiastic than Fili at the start. "I don't think it wise," he said in that fudgy voice. "However," he continued, "for Areen's sake I'll agree to a _short _outing with armed escort. Go no further than the stream. Perhaps I'll join you if I have time."

"Oh," I said before I could catch myself. I prayed for Mahal to plug their ears and let my comment pass unnoticed, and I even cleared my throat to make it seem like the "oh" was part of a cough, but King Thorin was quicker than Mahal. That didn't seem right, but there it was.

"You do not wish me to come?" he asked. The room got eerily quiet, and I wasn't carrying pins, so I couldn't drop one, but I rushed to correct his misapprehension.

"Oh, no, Your Majesty," I said. My next words tumbled over each other and landed in a heap by his feet. "I didn't mean oh as in 'Oh, I'm disappointed that you want to come,' but oh like 'I'm surprised you _would_ want to come.' They may sound the same, but they aren't really. One is much shorter than the other. The second one, I mean, and I definitely said the second. I did, absolutely."

No one said anything, not surprising after my nearly incoherent babble. Then King Thorin spoke.

"Oh."

That was all he said, and my mouth made a perfect, well, "o." I never expected such a dry wit and with perfect timing. The room took a collective inhale then let it out in gusty snatches of hilarity. I heard some thumps and thought that maybe a few dwarves had hit the ground laughing.

"You were waiting to do that weren't you?" I asked with my hands on my hips.

He chuckled with obvious satisfaction. "I think you're making fun of me, my lord." I was trying not to grin, but my lips won the battle.

"Not as much as you're making on your own, Areen, and it's Thorin."

_What?_

_"_My, my lord?" I stammered.

_"_I ask you to call me Thorin," he said. "You're on such terms with the others."

"Oh, oh, I couldn't, my lord!" The others started laughing again. "Now stop that! Enough is enough! Your Majesty, I couldn't _possibly_. You're a _king._"

"So is your father." A loud scoff expressed my sentiments perfectly, and no one bothered to correct me. The story of my swollen arm must have gotten around.

"The two of you are worlds apart!" I declared. He hmmd, and I heard his pleasure at my defense of him. We had come full circle.

"Now I need to win over your dog," he said.

"That might take more doing, my lord. She's much more discriminating than I." There! I wasn't about to lose a battle of wits in front of a crowd.

"I will overlook that comment for the sake of diplomatic relations," he said, clearly challenging me. I heard the smile in his voice. "Shall I command you to call me by name? Would you refuse the order of a king?"

He was enjoying a little fun at my expense, and who was I to deny him as long as I could score the final point?

"More like delaying, Your Highness, and if you have to order someone to call you by name, then perhaps you're going about it the wrong way."

Hoots of laughter echoed in the chamber, and I lifted my chin in triumph, although it was lessened somewhat in that I couldn't pick out where he was in all the noise. I could have been grinning at his armpit. I enjoyed my moment of satisfaction, but as it turned out, it was _only_ a moment.

"Perhaps, but if you recall I did ask politely at first, so it is _you_ who are going about it the wrong way."

Slaps of knees and pounding on the table told me that he won, but I had had too much fun to mind.

"Sorry, Areen, but you'll have to do better than that to catch uncle!" Kili said, both his under and overtones filled with delight. I remembered counting the pros and cons of my staying and I had to give the morning a solid four points so far.

After accepting a little more teasing, I sat down and took from every platter and basket. Matching wits with King Thorin was exhausting, and the brown sugar-coated ham did wonders to revive me. Along with an apple tart and custard. Purely therapeutic.

Meanwhile, Fili asked if Della wanted to join us on the picnic. I think armed guards had assuaged his concerns.

"Are you well enough, my dear?"

"I don't think so," she said. Her voice was tired, and there was a new rasp in it. "I didn't sleep well last night." Fili made concerned noises, and all chatter stopped.

"Do you need my assistance, Della?" Oin asked.

She gave a long exhale. "Perhaps something to help with the nausea, thank you, Oin. I seem to have lost my appetite."

Now it wasn't just me who gasped at that comment. Dwarves in general have a good love for a nicely turned haunch and more than a few teeth devoted to sweets—or gone because of them. I made sure to brush after every meal.

"Della?" asked King Thorin. "Do you need to rest?" His concern for her made his voice sound like it was drizzled in caramel. Delicious. I wanted to cut it into small squares. Perhaps add dash of cinnamon. Mmmm. No, not cinnamon. Sweet, whipped cream instead would do the trick. "Della, I want you to turn your duties over to someone else until Oin decides you are well enough."

"But …." She didn't get far with that one. The others didn't shout her down exactly. More like _strenuously_ agreed with the king.

"And you can spend some time with Areen," Kili interjected.

"I'd be delighted, Della." I said at once, thrilling at the notion though unhappy at the cause. Losing one's appetite was dire.

"So would I," she replied, her voice even softer than before.

It occurred to me that others must make many demands—perhaps _requests_ is a nicer word—because of her rank and family connections. My official duty at home, if it could be called that, was staying out of father's way. I wondered how I would fare in Della's place. I envied her patience and graceful manner.

"And Frerin, my love?" Fili ventured. "Do you wish him to stay with you when we go?" Della gave another tired sigh.

"I'd like to take a nap later in peace."

King Thorin escorted Della upstairs, and an hour later we changed and readied to go. I was so excited that Kili laughed at me or rather at the expression on my face. "If going outside makes you this excited, we'll go outside as often as we can." Without delay, we hurried to the stables where the armed guard was waiting. I could tell by the stomping of hobnailed boots and clanking of metal armor. I turned and saw a red smudge. I thought it might be Kili.

"Are you wearing red?" He gasped, and the smudge got larger.

"Can you see me?" he asked with a tremor in his voice. "Can you?" He moved even closer, but all I saw was more red and perhaps a darker smudge above, but anything was better than nothing at all, and I'd never heard him so happy before.

"If I'm right, I'm seeing a _very_ handsome dwarf with dark hair in a bright red tunic."

"Well, you got the shirt and hair right, Areen," Fili said. "You can't see his face though, can you?"

"No," I admitted, "I really can't see him at all, but I don't doubt he's very handsome. My maids said so, and their eyesight is keen."

"Ah, now his face is turning as red as his shirt!" Fili said. "Now how do you see _me?_" Kili answered first.

"A bald, squat dwarf with a big nose and even bigger wart on his chin wearing a ratty gray tunic."

With that, Fili shoved his brother, and the two got into a little good-natured tussle before calling it a draw.

"I never thought your uncle would have such a sense of humor," I said. "That was a surprise."

"Uncle's full of surprises," Fili said. "You should hear him telling Frerin stories. I never do the voices as well as he does. He used to tell us stories, and I remember him telling them night after night after Kili broke his leg."

"Recently?" I asked smugly. Fili crowed, and Kili mumbled that it was time to get going.

Summer and Sky were led out, and Fili and Kili were amazed when she kneeled on command. Kili asked about her training. "You say this Feron taught her by himself?" I nodded, proud of my pony. Fili ruffled Sky's ears and earned a happy bark and lick in return. I scratched her ears before settling myself on Summer's back. "No saddle?" Kili asked.

"No," I told him, "I can feel her movements better without one." Fili came up behind us with Frerin, who decided that he wanted to ride with me.

"No, Frerin," Fili said, "you ride with papa." What he didn't take into account was Frerin's determination, which surprised me since Frerin had shown more than his share since I'd been at Erebor. I don't know why, but parents seem to think that their child's behavior is circumstantial and not something that needs tempering like steel. Of course, dwarves are used to heat when it comes to metal, but heat of the parenting kind is unpleasant to both parents and children, so maybe that's why it's harder to apply. My mouth twitched on its own accord as I listened to Fili's attempt to reason with his increasingly unreasonable son.

"Della would know how to handle this," Fili grumped after a minute of back and forth.

"Just let him ride with Areen then," Kili said. "Can you hold him without a saddle?"

Uh. Theoretically I could, but I'd never tried it. "Fili, I'm not sure this is a good idea, but if you want, we _could_ lash him to me with my sash. Summer's very careful to keep me balanced, and I've never fallen off, but it's your decision."

He made a number of interesting noises as he deliberated, and I heard a, "Della will kill me if ...," but finally he agreed and hoisted Frerin to sit in front of me. He helped me take off my sash and tie Frerin to me. Though hefty as any proper dwarfling ought to be, he wasn't large, and I held him to me with one arm for extra security while holding the reins with the other.

"We'll walk there," Fili said, sounding like it was his decision for Frerin to go with me in the first place. Kili chuckled, and we started off.

"All right there, Areen?" I nodded and Frerin shouted his excitement. "Go, pony, go!" A walk wasn't up to his standards, but I wasn't about to go any faster, especially after he tried to grab the reins from my hands. Still, it was a beautiful day, and I could see the blue sky and smudges of brown and green on the ground. We were heading toward the same stream I had gone to before only a little ways farther up. The guards wore dark colors, so no fun there, but smell and sound of the wind was like life blowing through me.

"Breathe, Frerin," I said. "Doesn't outside smell wonderful?"

We traveled a ways behind the others since they had ridden ahead to make sure all was well at the picnic site. A few guards laden with packs stayed with me until we reached the site.

"I don't know if you're still hungry, Areen ...?"

"Do you really not know me by now, Kili?" Fili untied my sash with care and took Frerin who couldn't contain his excitement.

"I'm glad we took him, Kili," I said, "or else Della wouldn't get any rest."

"That's the truth."

After we settled on a thick throw, the food was unpacked, and we enjoyed a lovely day sharing our lives while Frerin chased butterflies. I didn't want to spoil the time by telling of my troubles at home, so I made them tell me as much about the quest as they could remember, and they remembered a lot. Unlike their earlier banter, Kili and Fili took pains to boast in each other, their uncle, and their companions. It was wonderful to hear, and I couldn't get enough.

"Then uncle jumped off the platform to escape the flames and landed on Smaug's snout!"

"No!"

"I didn't believe it either at first, but Dwalin said so."

I could have listened for hours, but too soon, it was time to go, and Fili sent me ahead with Frerin since he was tired and getting fussy. I arranged the sash to make him a little more comfortable and checked the knots again just to be sure. Two guards went with me, and the others stayed back to pack up. After a ways, we heard Fili call out something, and we stopped.

"Maybe a horse threw a shoe, my lady," said one of the guards. "I'll go and see." The other guard waited with me, but a moment later I heard something strange, a sound distorted by the wind, and I grew uneasy. Sky sniffed the air, and Summer had trouble keeping still.

"Do you think we should go back?" I asked.

"No, my lady," he said. "I'll ride back far enough to find out what's going on, but I'll keep you and Prince Frerin in sight. Wait here, my lady, I'm sure they just need some help with the horses." He galloped off, and sound of his hoof beats disappeared in the strong breeze. I felt exposed and was almost ready to head after him when Sky growled low in her throat and Summer made nervous sounds. A moment later a smell reached me, a putrid smell like rotting meat and decay.

"What's wrong?" I called out, but I heard nothing. I called out again, and the sound of scraping steel answered. A voice carried on the wind. "Run, Areen, _run!_" It was Kili, and then the sounds of shouts and many swords clanging against each other rang in my ears. I wheeled Summer around and raced as fast as I could in the opposite direction, I hoped. Behind me I heard at least two horses galloping toward me, their riders shouting, but their words were muffled by Frerin's cries and the blood now rushing in my ears.

"Mahal, spare us!" I cried, and I pushed Summer harder, but I wasn't used to Frerin's weight or his frantic motions. The back of his head hit my lip, and blood ran down my chin. Grabbing him tighter around his waist, I held on as best as I could, but the pace and his thrashing were too much, and I lost my balance and fell off, taking him with me.

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**I hope it was worth the wait! Thanks again Painton for editing!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Ah, exams are over, so more time for writing! Here's another chapter, and I'm working on the next for TRB. Happy holidays!**

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**Chapter 25**

I grabbed Frerin to my chest as we slid off and tucked his head under my chin. I'd never fallen off of Summer before, and it flashed through my mind as we slipped sideways that I should have learned how to safely if such a thing could be done. A sick shudder clenched my gut. Without being able to judge the distance, we smacked the ground hard, and I felt something pop in my shoulder before my head slammed into the turf. Air burst from my lungs, and I gasped and choked while clutching my little prince. I'd never felt so helpless. He was wailing, and I lay there on my side, unable to help him. Sky ran up to us panting and licked my face over and over while Summer bumped my back with her head.

_Stop, Areen, just stop and breathe. Breathe. He needs you. _

After several false starts, I forced a breath in and patted him all over. He flung his arms out, hitting Sky in the nose. I felt blood on the side of his face and pressed a corner of my skirt against it. The throbbing of my head and shoulder sharpened with the pounding of approaching horses. Sky barked and Summer whinnied, and I hoped that meant that help was on the way. I hoped so at any rate. We were still lashed together at the waist, and I couldn't get up.

"Help will come, Frerin," I said. "No one will hurt you." I didn't know how in Arda I was going to keep that promise, but since Mahal never answered my prayers to give me back my sight, relieve me of father's endless cruelty, or help our people truly prosper, I figured that he owed me this, and I was going to hold him to it_. _

_I ask for him to be unharmed and safe at home with his family._

Mahal might have considered that two requests, but it was only one sentence, and I knew that Frerin would never recover if Fili and Kili died today. The pounding grew louder, and I struggled to undo the knots in the sash.

"My lady! My lady!"

Praise, Mahal! It was the guards. I tried to get up, but Frerin's weight made that impossible. Thankfully, a quick slice of a knife cut the sash off, and a guard lifted Frerin away.

"My lady, are you hurt?"

I lifted my head and heard him gasp. I wasn't surprised. Blood from my split lip had smeared over my mouth, and the back of Frerin's head had hit me in the face with each squirm and bob of his head. But none of that mattered. He was alive, and we weren't going to be a quick snack for orcs, although I would have been more of a three-course meal with bread. Summer nudged me again, and Sky whined, but I couldn't brace my arm to sit up and fell back on my side. More horses came our way, and loud shouts hurt my ears. I heard a sharp command, and they raced past us, all but one. The horse protested when his rider pulled him up short, and strong hooves stamped the ground near me.

"Get them inside _now!"_

"At once, Your Majesty."

King Thorin swept by us and galloped on to save his sister-sons. Somehow he knew that something was wrong. I don't know how, but he knew. Was that part of being king? Some special sense that sniffs out danger? Maybe it was true if he had the abnormally large nostrils that I had envisioned. It occurred to me then that I had never found out what he looked like. I'd asked Otha and Kitra, but we were interrupted and never finished the conversation. All I knew was that I was grateful for his presence. I reminded Mahal of my prayer in case someone's predicament elsewhere in Arda had caught his attention.

_I'm holding you to it._

Strong arms picked me up and handed me over, and I felt the hard leather of a saddle.

"Frerin!"

"He's with us, my lady. All's well."

"My pony? My dog?"

"Your bonny lass is right beside us, and your dog is following."

I didn't remember much of the ride, so concerned was I for him. His muffled sobs tore at my heart, and while I was grateful that he was alive, I worried about the rest of his family. The saddle was so stiff that I thought my spine might shoot out of my back and land in the grass, but worst was not knowing what had happened at the stream.

"Why did Prince Kili tell me to run?"

"Orcs, my lady."

"How many?"

"Now, now, don't you fret, my lady. The princes are fine fighters, and King Thorin looked like he could have taken them on by himself, so they'll be back soon. Never fear."

His words were comforting and no doubt true. By all accounts the Durins were exceptional warriors, both brave and skilled, which was handy for one without the other was worse than useless. So far, Mahal was keeping up his end, but I held his feet to the fire—metaphorically speaking—and said another prayer for their safe return.

"They're more than a match for sniveling orcs, my lady," the other guard said with a thick layer of pride. "King Thorin seemed more upset for you and the young prince, my lady. You do look a fright." His partner mumbled his agreement, and they slowed the horses. The sounds of Erebor grew louder, and those blessed gate chains pulled the door open. By then I felt jolted to pieces, and I wondered through shocks of pain if parts of me hadn't dropped off and scattered in a trail behind us. My head hurt dreadfully. It felt like a tiny forge with teeny dwarves hammering away at the inside of my skull, pouring slag through my ears, and working huge, rusty cogs. In a moment of pain-filled haze, I stopped moving to listen to them grind against one another and made a mental note to tell King Thorin to use his thickest lubricant.

"Do you think you can walk, my lady?" The other guard was already hurrying Frerin off to the infirmary, and I didn't want to be far behind. I called for Sky, and she loped inside with wheezing exhales. "The dog needs to stay outside, my lady. We don't allow pets inside the mountain." I guess he hadn't heard.

"I have permission from King Thorin, Master Dwarf. I need her because I'm blind."

"I thought as much, my lady, but I care little for such things." I tried to make my way with Sky but without success.

"This way, my lady." He held me under my good shoulder, and we hobbled along. "Are you sure you don't want me to carry you?"

As we made our way into a common area, sharp inhales met us but not about Sky. I patted my face and felt crusted blood and a large, tender swelling under one eye. A smaller one was emerging on my forehead.

"Am I that ghastly?"

"Aye, my lady. You look like you tried to plow a field with your face, but it's nothing that won't mend."

I couldn't blame him for being honest, but under the circumstances a little gallantry would have been nice. "At least I can't see how bad I look." He grunted in agreement.

We didn't speak again until we were almost to the door. By the end, I was clutching onto him, too shaky to walk. He held me to him the last few steps and called out for help. Another dwarf, one of Oin's assistants, took me from him, and my guard bid me farewell.

"Areen! By Arda! Nofir, take Princess Areen to that bed there and lay her down before she faints." Oin's voice sounded dull and far away.

"I'm not going to faint," I said with a queer ringing in my ears. Sky pushed up against me, determined to stay near, but Oin's assistant urged her away.

"Help her clean up, Nofir. We don't want any chance of infection."

"Thank you, Nofir. I believe I can manage now." He placed a washbasin next to me, and I smelled the soapy water. I felt around for the washcloth, and after a moment, he pressed it in my hand. "My thanks, Nofir, and I hope that my affliction isn't cause for alarm."

After a hesitation, he spoke in a gentle voice. "My younger brother lost his sight in battle, my lady, and I think none the worse."

I wiped the dirt off of my hands and pressed the warm towel to my face. It was swelling, and I felt it grow tight in places. "Do I look presentable, do you think?"

"No, but considering the circumstances, you've come through well enough, my lady."

"How is he, Oin?" I twisted my hands together and tried not to cry, but I couldn't help the quaver in my voice.

"He'll be well. Some scrapes and a good egg on his forehead, one to boast of." Oin's voice told the truth, and I was glad, but I couldn't help feeling terribly guilty.

"Egg?" Frerin's trembling voice piped up from somewhere under thick covers. "Will it crack?"

"Not at all. In fact, it's a battle scar to show your father and uncles." Oin was a wonder, and Frerin's mood changed at once.

"Like papa's?"

Did the Durins have scars? It would make sense with all they had been through. Running from one side of Middle-earth to the other was bound to leave a mark or twenty. Otha and Kitra hadn't mentioned anything of the sort, but maybe because clothes covered them. A scar running down the side of the Kili's face would be dashing though. My thoughts were interrupted by Frerin's shrieks.

"Hold still, Frerin, I need to clean the cut." More howls came my way as well as the sounds of sheets and blankets being kicked. Oin was trying his best to tend to Frerin while my little prince was doing his best to avoid it. "Now Frerin, it won't sting if you hold still. Just let me ... ow!" Frerin put up a good fight, but afterward he swallowed a berry-flavored pain tincture without a fuss. He soon quieted, but that didn't make me feel any better.

"I'm sorry, Frerin." With a huff, Oin came over and leaned in.

"Firstly," he said, "don't blubber and make him afraid of what happened. You need to be strong so he can be strong. Secondly, I need to look at your shoulder. You may have dislocated it. Nofir, I could use a hand here." The dwarf trotted over, and Oin felt along the joint. "Hmm, do you have her, Nofir? Good. Now on the count of three …."

He didn't even get to one before he wrenched my shoulder, and I heard another pop. I couldn't help a scream, and Frerin cried out in sympathy.

"Yes, well," Oin said, "I suppose that one's on me."

After giving Oin a wrinkled-nose scowl, I put my guilt aside. What I felt was unimportant next to Frerin's well being. When I was able, I made my way over to Frerin. He was drowsy. "Egg, Pincess Reen." I felt along his face and winced when my fingers found the large, hard swelling on the left side of his forehead. Oin patted my shoulder.

"Nothing that time won't heal, lass."

I hugged Frerin to me, and he patted my eggs ever so softly.

"Will they crack?" Mahal, it felt like they would, and with each pat, my stomach flopped over.

"That's enough now, my lad," said Oin who pulled him away. "Are you going to be sick, lass? Should I bring a bucket?"

"No, I don't ... think so, Oin."

"Nofir, put a bucket next to her bed. Go lay down before you fall down. No, that's an order."

I wondered when Fili, Kili, and King Thorin would return. I tried to keep positive, but I couldn't help but worry, and more often than not I turned to the door, trying to pick out their voices from those I heard. Before too long, a loud voice sounded from down the hall, but it wasn't any of the ones I was expecting. Of course I should have realized that someone would get Della.

She flew into the room, and the door banged on the stone with a clack.

"What happened? Oh, my Frerin!"

Her skirts rustled as she ran to her boy. Soon she would learn of my failure to protect her son.

"Mama, I fell."

"He's well, Della," Oin said, cutting Frerin off. "Just a good bump on the head and a few cuts. Nothing I haven't seen before."

More loud footsteps pounded down the hall a few minutes later, and I didn't have to guess whose they were. I let out a long, slow breath through pursed lips. I'd been holding it since Della saw Frerin. They were alive! I thanked Mahal over and over, my mouth moving silently with gratitude and relief. He had come through for them, and I nestled into the pillows. I didn't realize until that moment how fond I was of them.

"My son! Where is he? Where is he?" Fil was frantic, and Oin shushed him as he did me.

"Don't scare him, Fili. He's come through like a warrior, like a Durin."

"Papa!"

His doting father wasted no time. He must have scooped him up in his arms because all I heard were three muffled voices in cloth, the little Durin family in a tight circle.

"My boy, my boy. Thank Mahal," he said with sob. Della must have hugged them both.

"I love you, Fili. Tell me what happened." she said.

Someone moved closer to me, and I looked up instinctively.

"By Erebor!" It was Kili, and he was horrified. "Areen! Your face."

"Look, mama," Frerin burbled, "an egg, and Pincess Reen has two!"

Della had overlooked me in her haste to reach her son, and she and Fili let out loud exclamations at the same time.

"What happened?"

The room stilled, and I bit my fat lip only to yelp with pain. A reckoning was coming, and no one wanted to be the first to unleash it, but there was one person who wasn't yet accounted for.

"Fili, my love?" Della said. "This was just a picnic. How could ...?"

"King Thorin?" I said at the same time. "Did he … was he ...?"

Kili answered us both. "Things didn't go as ... planned, Della, and uncle's ... talking with your ... escort, Areen."

So sentries told her only what they saw at the gate. I could see why. A princess carrying another heir to the throne didn't need worse news, but I knew that wouldn't hold for long. Soon all of Erebor would know what had happened, and Della was smart.

"What are you not telling me?" _Very_ smart.

Kili took my hand. "You're hurt." He voice was soft and tender. "What happened?"

I steeled myself to recall things calmly for Frerin's sake and for Della's. She was upset enough, and I followed Kili's lead. _She's with child, she's with child._ I kept repeating it so I would stay calm, but my excess of emotion decided once again to make life difficult.

"I heard your ... as I was heading back with Summer and Sky, but ... I tried to keep him ... I couldn't … and we … I tried … but … but."

He slid his arm around me then and rocked me against his chest. Behind him I heard Della whispering to herself, and I listened to the pieces fall together.

"Frerin was riding with Areen? With _Areen? _You let our son ride with her? They told me there had been an accident. Why do you have a cut on your face? Were you racing? Mahal, Fili! What in Arda were you _thinking?"_

Her voice raised in pitch with each sentence until she shrieked the last word.

"Della, listen to me," Fili said. "Frerin is well, and you need to think of the baby." He tried his best to soothe her, but his efforts were wasted.

Kili tucked my head under his chin, much like I had Frerin's, and tightened his arms around me. A constant stream of tears made my chin and face sticky, and without thinking I rubbed them on his tunic. He seemed not to notice and instead made soothing sounds in his throat.

"It was Fili's decision," he whispered against the top of my head. "We'll tell her later."

Della tried to control her anger, but she had every right. We never should have taken such a chance with him. I should never have offered, and I couldn't fault her for being furious. I was just as upset for Frerin, and I wasn't his mother.

Although I knew I had nothing to say in my own defense, I still needed to apologize. If it had been the other way around, I'd have been livid. How quickly things had changed! From a delightful picnic to near death.

"I'm so sorry, Della. We were walking back from the picnic, and he was tied to me so that nothing would happen, but I didn't know that ..."

Kili made an urgent noise, and I shut my mouth while she huffed through hers.

"I don't doubt your intentions were good," she said with forced calm, "or that you thought that any harm would come of it." She took another deep breath, one that I thought started in her toes. "But it was foolish to expose my son to danger. Understand me, Areen. I have great respect for your accomplishments, but there are some things that you can't do as well as someone with sight, and riding with an active child over new terrain is one of them." I bowed my head in acknowledgement. She was right, and there was nothing to say. "But that doesn't explain the cuts and bruises I'm seeing on you and Kili, and I won't be treated like a delicate flower because I'm expecting, so you might as well tell me the truth, Fili."

In the sudden silence came the sounds of cries and moans down the hall. A dwarf open the door and directed stretchers to various beds. King Thorin stopped at the door and gave orders to the dwarf who pelted back down the hall.

"Sweet Mahal!" she said.

"It was orcs, Della," King Thorin said, not bothering to spare her since evidence lay groaning on beds. "We got word that some had survived after they left for the picnic. You have Mahal's foresight to thank for keeping Frerin alive. If he had stayed back with Fili, he would have died. They took on a band of orcs, and as great a warrior as Fili is, he would not have been able to protect him for long. Sending him on with Areen saved his life."

We listened to her efforts to calm herself. "Very well. I want to hear everything. Tell me _everything._"

"But not here," Oin said. "Frerin should be moved to another room with fewer, uh, distractions."

Della cleared her throat then and voices stilled.

"I want to add my thanks to that of the king and princes for your valiant defense of our family today," she said to the dwarves on the beds." Although quiet, her voice carried to the corners of the room, and the wounded mumbled their respectful thanks. "You are worthy of the House of Durin, and I'm ... very grateful. And to you as well, Areen. You did your best to save Frerin when you must have been terrified." Her voice quivered on the last word.

"Come, love," Fili said. "Frerin needs rest and so do you." Picking up his son. Fili carried him to another room with Della following.

"You too, lass," Oin said to me. "I know you can't see their injuries, but I'll spare you their shouts when I stitch their wounds."

I nodded and pushed back the covers. Finding and grabbing the bedpost, I swung my legs out, but my head spun when I tried to stand. Hands steadied me.

"Do you need help, Areen?"

I wanted to say that I could manage on my own, but something held me back. For so much of my life, I'd swung from defiance to despair, but what had happened with Frerin sparked the beginning of a change that I couldn't understand though I felt it. "I'd like to try on my own first, Kili, but please stand by in case I can't."

"Of course." He stood near me and was waiting with his hand on my elbow when King Thorin walked over.

"She's hurt, uncle."

"I can see that for myself, Kili. May I, Areen?" I nodded, and a rough thumb and finger lifted my chin. Warm breath wafted over my face as he leaned forward and turned my head back and forth. After checking everything he could see, he slid thick, warm fingers through my hair, pressing gently in different places. I stifled a cry when his fingers touched one spot above my ear, and he made a noise of dismay.

"Oin, why haven't you seen to her yet?"

The old healer hurried over. "I did, Thorin. She'd dislocated her shoulder in the fall, and we set it to rights, but then Della came down, and, well."

The king made another displeased noise. Not a hum by any stretch.

"She and Frerin landed hard and may have concussions. I want them to stay here overnight. Areen, I sent word to your maids that all's well and that you'll be spending the night here. They will take care of Sky. Oin?"

"Right you are, Thorin," Oin said. "Can you stand, lass? Do you have her, Kili?"

I tried to get up, but my head spun and knees buckled.

"Oopsy-daisy, sweetheart," Oin said. "Kili?"

"I have her," and he swung me up in his arms. "My pleasure, Areen." He laughed, and it lightened my heart.

"Oh and when you're through, Kili," Oin said, "I need to see to you. Thorin, you too. We don't want infection now do we?"

I couldn't believe what he was saying.

"Kili, are you hurt? Are Fili and King Thorin?"

He chuckled, and his hair brushed my forehead as we walked out the door. "Not anywhere important."

"Still," Oin called out from the other room, "I want to see for myself."

Kili placed me gently in the bed next to Frerin's, and Oin bustled back and forth from the infirmary. I heard corks pop and the pouring of liquid and pounding of something crunchy. After a few minutes, he came over.

"Here, lass," he said while guiding my hands to a cup. "Just a little something for the pain, and I've made up a few poultices for the swelling. You may turn a lovely shade of purple in the morning, but the bruises will fade soon enough."

Even though it tasted like spoiled wine, I drank it without a word of protest. At least the poultices felt good. One by one, the Durins went to have their scrapes and cuts checked. Word traveled fast because soon the company was at the door to find out what had happened. In the meantime, Frerin had fallen asleep, and I could barely keep my eyes open. Fili took Della to bed and said that he would come back afterward to check on his son. One by one the guards fell silent until only Oin, Kili, and King Thorin were talking in low voices. I dreamed of being outside in the fresh air and sunshine. Butterflies danced around Frerin's head while we ate. Just as we were laughing and telling jokes, a storm rolled up, and my dreams turned to shouts for help and the smell of blood. I saw Frerin on the ground with an orc standing over him, its jagged sword raised, and I tried to get to him but couldn't move my legs. I was screaming his name over and over when I heard a voice. It was soothing and kind. The orc fled at its presence, and it wrapped around me and told me that the danger had passed.

"Hush, Areen," the voice said. "Don't cry. Frerin's alive, and you're safe. It's over now. You've nothing to fear." Fingers joined the voice, and they were careful and gentle, and my fears dwindled with every motion. After stroking my cheek, the fingers then moved the hair off of my forehead and cupped to run over my head again and again with long, slow motions. "I will protect you. You're safe now." In my dream I pulled the hand to me and snuggled up against the arm it was attached to. The voice sounded amused. "Feeling better now? Good. Sleep. Go to sleep. I will watch over you."

Something warm pressed against my forehead, and then I heard a rustling and the creak of someone shifting off the edge of my mattress, but it was only a dream.

* * *

**Was it? Or was someone with her? If so, who? There are a number of choices. Oooooooo.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Welcome new readers and thanks to all who reviewed and PM'd. Here's a little Christmas bonus that I managed to sneak in for the holidays. I liked the idea of a warm, fuzzy chapter after injury and angst, so I whipped it up as a thank you present. I'm putting it out before Painton had a chance to edit it, so all mistakes, weirdness, and plot and character inconsistencies are mine. Hopefully, I've learned from her wise counsel, so there won't be too many. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 26**

Ugh. What a night. Between someone waking me up at regular intervals, Oin's nasty but potent medicines, and feeling like I'd been trampled by King Thorin's horses, I didn't want to move, not now, not ever. Not even an eyelid. I had heard stirring in the room that might have been Frerin and a yawn and stretch that was most likely Fili, but then the door opened and a steady murmur of voices trooped into the room.

"Do ya think she's awake?" It was Nori, and he came closer to the bed and jiggled it a little. I would have shoved him back if I was awake enough to lift an arm and not just for jostling me. He must have had chicken livers for breakfast.

"She probably is now thanks to your yammering." That was, uh, Dori.

"She looks so peaceful." Ever the romantic Ori. Peaceful? Not even close. I felt like one giant cramp. It was funny that they thought I was sleeping yet made no effort to lower their voices. Then again, Kili did tell me that the company had dispensed with niceties while on the quest. I suppose such things weren't worth considering when they were in dire straits most of the time. I suspected though that Nori didn't have them to begin with.

"How'd ya sleep, Fili?" The prince stretched and yawned again. Frerin was already wiggling on the bed and kicking off his blankets.

"Well enough for waking up my son every few hours to make sure he didn't fall into a coma." He yawned again, and I thought that one might split his head open. "But I'll shake this off soon enough." Scooping Frerin up, he said that he was headed up to see Della. I knew that Fili had wanted her to sleep for the baby's sake, but I would put down money if I had any that she had slept about as well as I did.

"I want mama."

"She'll need a big hug from you, Frerin, so squeeze her tight, er, not too tight."

More footsteps came down the hall, and by the confident stride, it sounded like whomever it was had gotten a good night's sleep. I was envious.

"How is she, Oin?" Dwalin asked. "Kili and Thorin willl be down shortly. They wanted to wash up after spending the night."

So they … _what?_ They spent the night _here?_ My eyes twitched under the lids, which was my depleted way of having them fly open and stick to my forehead. One might think that it wouldn't matter for a blind girl to open her eyes in the morning, but it was the principle of the thing. So … they spent the night. Of course, they would have wanted to watch over Frerin, being family and all. _And_ he was a Prince of Durin _and_ Fili's heir. Yes, that made sense. I hoped I didn't talk in my sleep. That also brought up a vague dream of someone touching my hair, but I wasn't going to humiliate myself by asking about it.

"Her lids twitched," Ori said. "Is she waking up?"

I felt him leaning over, and I battled between frustration and embarrassment. I couldn't sleep in peace, and now I couldn't wake up in it either. Besides, there was something I needed to do, something I needed to do every morning. Mahal, something _everyone_ needed to do _every_ morning, and I wanted to do it with a bit of privacy. I didn't think I could wait them out, and then I had this horrible thought that I couldn't make it to the privy on my own. I dismissed the image of the company carrying me off to take care of my private needs while loitering about outside until I was done.

So I ignored the nagging urge, hoping that someone would tell them to come back later, but they decided to hear Kili tell again what had happened and sat down to wait. On top of being one giant bruise, I was emotionally sore, and I didn't want to hear it again—from the top, as Bofur said.

"Mmmm." I tried to open my lids, but they decided that they were just as disinterested in facing the world and stubbornly stayed closed.

"Oy! Oin. Are you sure there's nothing wrong with her?" Nori asked. "She's making noises now, and she looks like plums are stuck to her face."

Chairs scraped against the floor, and they crowded around the bed. Breath from every angle, some good and some not so, blew in my face. Chicken livers, onions, and blue cheese mixed with cinnamon, honey, and lemon to smell like one of my friend Sella's more creative attempts at finding her secret recipe.

"I think she looks good for someone who might have died."

"I've seen corpses look better."

"What are you doing?" Dwalin asked. "Giving her last rites?"

I liked him. I did. He was blunt, never mincing his words and never apologizing. That coupled with good looks would make him quite the catch. Too dry and matter-of-fact for anyone I knew, but a stalwart lady warrior would serve him well.

More footsteps and another voice joined in. "Areen? Are you awake? Areen? How are you feeling?" It was Kili, and his concern was touching. He smelled good too, very fresh and clean with a hint of mint.

"Kili ...," I whispered through a parched throat. It came out more like a croak. His breath quickened.

"Areen?"

I tried to sit up but flinched, and he demanded that I be given help. Oin came over with another one of his terrible syrups. I had asked last night if I could have some of Frerin's medicine, and he chuckled at my finicky palate. Minus one point for Erebor. Not that I was really keeping score. Despite yesterday's debacle, Erebor was doing quite nicely in the rankings, and Oin wasn't being mean. Frerin's wasn't strong enough, he had said. I don't think he heard me suggest a double dose.

"Mmmm, my head."

Another voice overrode the others.

"Stand back and give her some room," King Thorin said. "Oin, do you have it? Areen, can you sit up?"

I shook my head and flinched again. It was just too hard. My shoulder and head were battling for top honors in the category of inflicted pain. After a pause, someone slipped an arm behind the pillows and propped me up. I smelled spicy musk.

"Drink it and you'll feel better, child," Oin said. "You had a rough go of it last night, but I couldn't safely give you more."

"As soon as you drink, I'll set you back down," King Thorin said. "Kili, help her with the draught."

Kili took my good hand and put it on the cup and helped me bring it to my mouth, but I started shaking, and the cup dropped. The company noised its concern, and Oin left for clean linens.

"I'll take it," King Thorin said when Oin came back with more. "Come, Areen. I'll hold the cup and help you drink then Kili will help you find a comfortable position."

I blinked and made ready, and he propped me up a little more while holding the cup against my lips. I drank it all without spilling, then he lowered me slowly. Kili rearranged the blankets and helped me settle in with a final rub of his hand on my arm.

"That's enough for now," Oin said, but I knew I needed to get up soon. I had an increasingly urgent matter to attend to, and I didn't know how to say it in front of everyone. I shifted and grunted in discomfort and, thankfully, Oin picked up on it.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Now shoo, all of you. Areen, needs some privacy to meet the day, so out with you. Kili, can you send for Otha and Kitra? They can help Areen change and so forth. Thorin, she needs a moment. All of you. She'll be better soon enough."

Thanks to my friends, I soon was cleaned up, dressed, and feeling relief in a number of areas. A good breakfast can set anyone to rights, and I knew that when my appetite returned at the smell of lemon and berry scones, I would recover quickly.

"Can you walk, lass?" Oin asked. "It's best to move about if you can. Lying still for too long won't be good for you."

By then, Kitra had come back with Sky, and my good girl whined and licked my hand. I knew that she wanted me to get up and walk her, but I didn't think I could keep the pace.

"Otha will tend to your laundry," Kitra said, "and I'll take Sky. Master Oin's right. You need to move, Areen. You know you'll stiffen up otherwise."

Little by little, the pain subsided, and I got to my feet with help. After checking me over, Oin put a sling on me and led me out. The reception committee was waiting outside.

"Areen, you look …."

"Like a bunch of purple grapes," Nori said.

"I was going to say much better," Ori said in a testy voice, the first non-dreamy tone I had heard from him.

"I thank you for coming to see me," I said. "It was very kind, but I don't want to keep you from your day."

After a few more pleasantries, they left to go about their business with promises to visit soon. Nori promised to make my life more difficult while I was there, and I promised to leave him unable to have children. It would be a strange relationship, but a good-natured one.

"Down a couple of halls then," Kili said. "Oin will walk with your wheeled chair in case you need to sit down. Now may I?" He took my arm and carefully led me down a hall—Erebor's labyrinth—and the more we walked, the better I felt.

"That's enough now, Areen," Oin said after the half-hour bell chimed. "You're looking a little pale, so I want you to go back. Rest awhile and maybe you can go out again later. I want to keep an eye on you for another day."

I was getting tired, so Kili walked me back, and every so often, he'd pat my hand and give it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Kili, you've been wonderful."

He made a sound in his throat. "You could have died trying to save Frerin, so the least we can do is make you well. Uncle found out what had happened from your guards. They saw you from a distance and said that you took the fall for Frerin. When they came up to you they said that you tried to cover him with your body to protect him. We owe you a great debt, Areen."

I didn't think they owed me anything. I was terrified as Della had said and did only what I could at the time for the dearest boy ever. He was so full of life, so curious and questing that it was hard not to be taken with him. The thought of anything happening to those soft, plump hands and round face made me shudder.

"I'd have done anything for him," was the only thing I could say that made sense. Kili gave a satisfied, joyful chuckle.

"I know. You don't hide much."

I got back into bed, but it was quiet when I woke up, and I felt like it was the middle of the night. "Oin? Is anyone here?" It was a strange, disorienting feeling. I'd had that happen before I was blind when I'd take a nap during the day only to wake up when it was dark. The nap may only have been for an hour, but I'd wake up and feel like I had lost a day. Of course, when I found out that it was only an hour, I thought I'd gained time somehow.

"Yes, lass? I stepped away to have your dinner sent up. Otha and Kitra wanted to visit, but I thought it best for you to sleep as much as you could, so I turned away all visitors for the rest of the day. You're running a slight fever, perfectly understandable, so keep quiet until the family comes."

"Oh?"

He seemed surprised by my confusion.

"Lass, you were hurt trying to save their boy, so they want to see how you are. Besides, Frerin wants to visit. I think it'll do him good to see you more alert. I don't want him fretting."

I leaned back in the bed and tried to get comfortable, but my day dress was heavy and a little too hot to wear.

"Oin, is there something else I could wear that would be suitable? I'm hot, and I can't get comfortable."

A hand slapped on my forehead.

"You're fever's up a bit, so I'll send for some nightclothes. You're hair needs to come down too. It'll be cooler off your head."

About an hour later I was unbraided and wearing a lighter gown and robe. Otha and Kitra assured me that it was pretty but modest. "Nothing unseemly, Areen," Otha said. "Don't be uneasy."

I ate roast beef and gravy on a thick slice of bread, and it tasted marvelous. Slif had really gotten the hang of it. Otha and Kitra were eating as well and sharing their experiences at Erebor so far when the question I'd never had answered came to mind.

"What does King Thorin look like?"

Oin stopped putting away his vials and jars.

"Do you have pictures in your mind of what we look like, lass?"

Otha and Kitra said that they had described the princes to me, and I told Oin what I knew.

"Prince Kili has fine features with dark brown hair and dark eyes that are boyish and adorable, yet they can turn fierce when he's angry or upset. They said that he has a strong jaw and high cheeks. When I was young I remember seeing someone who looked like that, and I thought him _very_ handsome."

"Good enough, lass. Kili is a looker for certain. And Fili?"

Otha giggled.

"We didn't say anything that wasn't true, Master Oin."

"He has golden hair with sparkling green eyes and lovely dimples," I said. "He looks to be in good humor almost all the time, although his dimples can deepen with exasperation when Frerin is, um, acting his age."

Oin chuckled heartily then and asked for my impressions of the others. Some were fairly close and others not so. Oin and my friends were happy to correct my errors.

"So Dori has braids tied _under_ his chin, and Bifur has an _ax_ sticking out of his forehead? I'd never have guessed that."

"And Dwalin?"

I described him as best as I could with, I admit, some of my more fanciful notions.

"Hmmm, interesting," Oin said. He coughed and thumped his chest.

"So what do you think King Thorin looks like then?" Kitra asked. I went into great detail, and when I was done they could hardly contain themselves.

"Well, Areen, my dear," Oin said when he could catch his breath, "you have them pegged exactly, excepting ..."

"Excepting what?"

Before he could answer, Kili rapped on the door.

"Is she up for visitors, Oin? Just the family for tonight. Frerin can't wait any longer for story time."

"Give us a minute to get ready, Kili," Oin said still chuckling. "We'll talk later, lass, but you've given me the best laugh of my week."

I didn't understand what was so funny, but it would have to wait for another day. Frerin ran through the door and jumped up and down next to my bed.

"Story time!"

"Frerin wants to include you in our nightly story time, Areen," Della said. "Are you feeling up to it?"

Of course I was.

"Which story are we going to do tonight, Frerin?"

"The Foolish Dwarf!"

Everyone groaned. "We did that last night, dear," Della said.

"Again!"

"Frerin, how about the Brave Princes and the Gem? Or the Crown Prince Who Saves His Kingdom?"

"No!"

"We could do the Perfect Mother," Della said. "You love that one."

"Foolish Dwarf, papa. Please?"

"Very well, son. Who's going to start it this time?" Fili asked. "Uncle?"

"If I must," King Thorin said. He creaked a bit in his seat, no doubt settling in for his performance. I was delighted. I'd never had such a time before where a family—the _whole_ family—got together to do something _as_ a family. Mother used to read to me when I was young, and tutors when I was blind; that is, until father decided it was a waste of his money and their time. Frerin climbed up on the bed and squirmed with excitement, and I confess that I did too.

"Once upon a time, there was a foolish dwarf who worked for a good king. A very good king. A great and wise king who was the most powerful king there ever was. A most noble king."

"Mmm, laying it on a bit thick, aren't you, Thorin?" Fili mumbled.

"You asked me to narrate, so no comments if you please. Now, before I was interrupted. There lived a great and wise king who had a foolish servant. Although he wasn't smart, he had served well, so when it was time for the servant to go home, the very noble and generous king gave him a bag of gold coins. As he went along his way, he grew tired and rested by a stream. There he met a man on a horse. Kili?"

"It was a tall horse," Kili said with mischief in his voice, "a magnificent horse, the most beautiful and magnificent horse there ever was. A most noble horse."

"Most amusing, Kili," King Thorin said. I stifled a snicker, but Fili didn't bother.

"At this rate, we'll never finish," Della said.

"Uncle started it."

"_Kili."_

"As I was saying, the man on the horse said to the foolish dwarf, 'What have you there?" Kili had pitched his voice in a close approximation of the king's, and I couldn't help a giggle at his irritated huff. "The foolish dwarf said a bag of coins, and the man said, 'Why, a horse is better than a bag of coins! Look you, why should you have to carry a heavy sack like that all the way home when you can ride this beautiful horse?'"

The story went on with the dwarf listening to each charlatan that he met on his way and trading what he had for something less valuable. A cow was better than a horse, and a pig was better than a cow, and a goat was better than a pig, and a goose was better than a goat. They all extolled the virtues of what they had to cheat the foolish dwarf who was only too willing to listen. The funniest part was that the foolish dwarf felt that he was getting the better deal every time. The Durins were surprisingly good story-tellers, and I laughed along with the rest at their comic interpretations. Fili was the foolish dwarf, and his doltish delivery had me holding my stomach with my good arm. Frerin squealed with each one's turn, and I realized that they were acting out their parts as well. I wished I could see their expressions, but being there was enough.

"So the foolish dwarf took the goose and went on his way feeling very proud of himself," Della continued, "When he was about three miles from home he met a man carrying a large, smooth rock. The man said to the dwarf, 'Friend, where are you going and what have you there?'"

When Della described the rock and how it could be used as a whetstone and wouldn't a whetstone be better than a goose who would die someday, I burst out laughing with the others. She did it so well with the voice of an elderly man who was shrewdly selling a worthless rock that I wondered if this talent came out of the roles they play as royalty. Maybe not, but if they were ever deposed, they could go out on the road and get rich. I listened with an eager smile for the ending, but she stopped.

"Your turn, Areen," Fili said. "As guest of honor, you get to finish the story."

Now I had told many, many stories in my life, but they were the kind called Stories to Evade Father's Wrath. I wasn't sure what Frerin expected and worried that I'd disappoint him. Maybe he had an ending that he liked.

"But how does it end?"

"Any way you want," Kili said. "That's the fun of it. We make up new things as we go."

Oh. I wanted to beg off, but I also wanted so much to join in and be a part. "Can you give me a hint, Kili?"

He cupped his hand around my ear and leaned in. His lips tickled my ear. "He ends up with nothing. Just use your imagination."

I took a deep breath and plunged in.

"Now by this time, the foolish dwarf was tired of carrying the heavy rock and very thirsty, and he thought that a taking a drink at the lake about a mile from his house would be just the thing before he walked through the door. So he set his rock down and leaned over to take a drink. But he set the rock down on the slope and while he was taking a drink it tumbled into the water and fell to the bottom of the lake. The foolish dwarf thought to himself that it was very good fortune not to have to carry a heavy rock the rest of the way and went home with a happy smile, thinking that his wife would be so proud of him."

I bit my lip when I was done, but the Durins laughed and clapped their hands.

"Couldn't have done better myself," Fili said gallantly. "Now Frerin, give Princess Areen a kiss goodnight. It's time for bed."

The disappointment must have shown on my face because Della laughed and patted my hand.

"You're welcome to join us every night if you wish. We'd be delighted to have you."

Fili lifted Frerin up from the bed after a moist kiss on my cheek, and I beamed my thanks. I was so happy to be included in a real family. Lord Vinn had tried to include me in his, but father had always complained that it was unseemly for me to be eating meals and spending evenings with others and always commanded me to come home so he could vent his frustrations on me and mother. Heaping bile on just one wasn't satisfying enough.

"Oh, thank you. I would like that very much."

Gathering themselves together, they joked about their performances and the new tidbits that had been added. Fili and Kili kissed my hand with exaggerated smooches. I swatted at them and missed. Della leaned in for a light hug, and King Thorin laid his hand on my shoulder.

"We're glad you are recovering, Areen," he said. "I didn't say so before, but you have my gratitude for what you did for Frerin. The guards told me what they had seen, and I thank you."

I nodded, suddenly too overcome to say anything. A tear splashed on my cheek, and he caught it on his finger.

"Don't cry, Areen. It's over now. Go to sleep, and tomorrow you'll feel much better."

* * *

**The story is an old fairy tale that I'd always loved. Please review! Consider it a Christmas present to your finger-numb writer!**


	27. Chapter 27

**I'm back! I'm so sorry about it taking so long, but school interfered and I was having trouble going back and forth between stories, but since Areen's been tapping her foot, I found the time to get back to her. Drama, drama, drama coming so hold on!**

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**Chapter 27**

"What is it?"

Thorin stood in his private study with his brow furrowed and one hand gripping several sheets of correspondence. He passed the other hand over the lower half of his face. His face was drawn and grim despite the cheeriness of the fire in a huge marble hearth topped by an elaborately carved mantel with the phrase _Khazad_ _Abod_ _Amuriz!*_

"Uncle?"

He sighed at Fili's question and tossed the parchments on his desk. They lacked any of the trappings formal documents sent between kingdoms were wont to have. No gold or silver cannisters with royal seals emblazoned, no gilded edges of fine parchment. Yet perhaps the speed with which they arrived and haste with which they were written spoke of greater importance.

"Bad news on both fronts," he said with a rub of his temple. "Thranduil says that remnants of those bands of orcs are harrying remaining travelers, knowing they'll be largely unprotected."

"The caravan from the Grey Mountains?"

"There's been no word."

"That could be good."

"Or bad."

Kili motioned to the second sheet on the desk. "The plague?"

Thorin nodded with his head down. Little was going right that morning. "It's reached the Iron Hills."

"No!"

"How bad?" Kili asked. The brothers looked down at the correspondence that had come from the raven. It was a small scroll to convey something of such import. Thorin walked over to the fire and leaned on his arm against the mantel. He stared into the flames.

"One hundred and twenty-three sick and sixty-two dead."

"Mahal!"

Fili turned his head toward his brother who had his mouth open. War was one thing, something that could be fought, but sickness was a ghost army, and no one ever knew where it was or when it would strike. They would rather face another horde of orcs than a contagion that no one could see or detect until it was too late.

"Dale has closed its gates," Thorin said with a heavy sigh. "We must also. I find myself in a difficult position, but Bard let me know that no caravan has yet crossed his borders."

"Uncle," Kili said, "we can't leave them out there defenseless. We can't have asked them to come only to let them die before our walls. We can't."

Thorin's head dropped and he nodded. His back bent as if carrying an intolerable weight. No one spoke while they imagined helpless dwarves banging on gates that refused to open to invited guests. What a callous welcome and breach of common decency. Thorin grimaced at the bitter saliva on his tongue. It was against everything in his nature, their nature to turn away from the plight of other dwarves, but the common good must also be considered.

"By the end of the week," he said after a heavy silence. "No longer, not for any reason. It sticks in my craw, but I must consider my people first. We will do everything we can to safeguard them and provide for their needs, but I will not risk my people. Perhaps we can quarantine them in one of the outer structures. It hasn't spread to Lake-town yet, so we have that narrow window."

"Areen will be heartbroken if her friends reach here only to be turned away," Kili said. "and won't her people be outraged at their treatment? Besides we need their medicines."

"I know," Thorin replied, "but be that as it may, I won't have them entering the mountain until we're sure there's no risk."

"What do we tell her, uncle?" Fili wanted to know.

"As always, the truth."

* * *

I stretched in the morning until I could feel a burn in my muscles. It hurt but felt good at the same time. My shoulder was sore, but not terribly so, and after a few ginger movements, I was sure I could move around well enough. King Thorin was right. I didn't feel like I had plums on my face either. More like grapes, but not the large, purple ones, but rather the small, juicy ones. I was still uncomfortable, but nothing would keep me in the sick rooms for another day. The combination of licorice and fish oil was nauseating.

"Your spark is back," Oin said. "Glad to see, lass."

"I can't stay here another day. I can almost taste the cod liver oil."

"Have to keep my stock fresh," he replied with cheer.

"Does it have to be so … potent?"

"Out with you," he said with a chuckle. "I can see you're no good here."

I pushed aside my covers and got dressed as fast as I could while Kitra brought Sky down. No sooner had I taken care of my morning essentials, when a knock at the door announced Kili, Balin, and some of the company.

"My, you look better, my lady," Balin said, still not comfortable enough to use my name, no doubt. That needed to change. I wasn't going to hold a grudge, not when he was so apologetic, but I couldn't help one more image of him in a sack of flour with clouds of white dust puffing out his nostrils.

"Please call me Areen," I said. "You were only protecting your kin."

_And if I could forgive King Thorin, that majestic, craggy boulder of a dwarf, I can certainly forgive him._

"I'd be honored."

"Good," I said. "So why are you all here?" A frightful thought clenched my heart. "Is it news about the caravan? Are they here? Are they … in trouble?"

"No, no," Balin said. "We haven't heard any news … as of yet."

"That's not good, is it?"

Kili made a sympathetic noise, and I felt his hand on my arm. I couldn't tell if it was a reassuring squeeze or a condoling one. I started breathing faster and deeper to prepare myself. Was it loathsome orcs? Were they fighting for their lives somewhere?

"Nor is it bad," Kili said. "Uncle sent out ravens this morning trying to get word. Be patient. We'll hear something soon."

"In the meantime," Nori said, cutting in, "we've something planned to take your mind off your troubles and torment you with ours."

I heard a loud kerfuffle, which I thought was Ori kicking his brother. A loud "Ow, you didn't have to do _that!_" pretty much confirmed it. I've always loved the word kerfuffle. It makes me picture a homey fight, an affectionate maiming.

"Did you get him good?" I asked to general laughter. "Is he going to have a bunch of plums on his … um, his …?" Hmm, I wasn't sure where he was hit, but based on the groaning I knew it was somewhere important.

"Shin," Ori replied with a hint of pride, "knee, and ankle—with pointy boots."

"Finally!" Kili said. I heard the overtone of surprise and undercurrent of satisfaction. Evidently, Nori spread his talents around.

"So what have you planned today? Oh, how is Frerin? Is he all recovered?"

"Bright as a button," Balin said. "Already sporting his shiner like he had won the battle himself."

"We're going to take you around Erebor," Ori said. "Oin said walking for a bit would be good for you. Are you up for it?"

My wide smile said everything. I couldn't wait. Ever since I got to Erebor, I felt like I was passing through, going from place to place, but not really _experiencing_ it. I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet, and they laughed at my excitement.

"I can't think of anything more wonderful."

After negotiating a number or corridors with Sky, I was led out into a spacious place that echoed with voices, footsteps, and general business. The stone reverberated slightly when it was struck, sounding like a low drum punctuated with sharper clacks. It wasn't music by any means, but it did have a rhythm to it, and I listened intently.

"How high is the highest level?"

"Twenty stories up from this floor," came King Thorin's deep voice from behind me, "and five floors below to the mines."

My mouth fell open and I felt saliva gathering behind my teeth. I swallowed before I drooled.

"What does it look like?"

"Typical dwarven architecture in green granite and marble only on a finer and grander scale."

I made a face. Of course, he knew the last detail of his mountain, no doubt, but that didn't make me see it. I understood the scale from what he had said, and that was impressive enough, but I couldn't _see_ it.

"You are _displeased?"_ he asked. Everyone heard the edge in his voice because they started muttering and whispering to themselves.

"I can't see it," I said. That confused them even more. "No, no, you don't understand. I can't _picture_ it."

Kili was the first to catch on.

"The green marble has a swirling pattern that looks like waves of water, and light from large gold sconces look like rays of the sun, so we have both sun and the sea inside the mountain. Light reflects off the walls and breaks into patterns on the floors that light the way in the dark. Carvings of dwarven victories and scenes of life almost leap off the walls, they look so real. The eyes are jeweled, and sometimes you'd think they're following you, keeping watch over you."

I sighed happily. Now I could see. They were surprised but delighted to give a more artful vision of their home. I suppose it never occurred to them that anyone would need it.

"The entrances to some halls have carved scenes that tell you what is down that hall," Balin said. "Swords, axes, and other weapons are carved around the frame of the hallway to the armory, and carvings of food and ale are around the entrance to the kitchens."

"What's carved on the entrances to the baths?"

"Never you mind."

"Let me tell!

"They're teasing you, Areen," Kili said. "Not all the halls are marked with carvings. Most are labeled, but there are many carvings of famous battles, scenes of life, and historical events, and walls without them are smooth and polished to feel almost like satin."

"Pity about the baths," I said. "That could have been interesting."

"But hardly fitting," King Thorin said with definite disapproval.

"But much more fun, my lord," I couldn't help saying.

The others laughed while King Thorin harrumphed.

"Spoilsport." He chuckled that time.

I held out my arm, and Kili took me by the elbow and led me to the nearest wall. I let out a surprised gasp. It was as smooth as a mirror. I couldn't believe the workmanship. It must have taken hundreds of dwarves working on this wall alone. My fingers touched and patted along the wall until I felt something raised and ridged. I couldn't make it out at first. I pressed my palms on it and felt out a boot. It was exquisitely carved, not a rough spot or jagged edge anywhere. I felt the fur of the boot, the laces winding around it, and the hard toe. Reaching above I felt the wrinkles of breeches gathered at the knee.

"This is beyond imagining!" I said, leaning over to him with a conspiratorial air. "You Durins really know what you're doing!"

"Yes, we do," came the reply in my ear.

I snapped my mouth shut. I had assumed it was Kili leading me over so gently, but it was his uncle instead. Ugh. I felt yet another flush burn my cheeks and struggled not to squirm. What _was_ it about him that always caught me out?"

* * *

The rest gathered around her watching something none of them had ever seen before. Everyone admired the carvings, sometimes even standing back to take them in, but no one had ever discovered and explored them the way she did. Dori watched fingers trace every nook and cranny, following the careful carvings created ages past by skilled and loving hands.

"She appreciates fine art, I have to say," he whispered to Gloin. "Not like some of the others gawping at our carvings with ledgers in their heads."

"True, but she'll never see our precious gems either, aye," he replied,"and judging the value of commodities is a skill worth having."

Kili stared fascinated at this wholly new experience, his eyes following her every expression. A strange lurch in his chest was followed by an extra heartbeat and forceful pounding. He was surprised by its strength and felt his feelings for her warm. She wasn't the only plain-spoken princess he had met, nor the only one with a sense of humor, but she had heart as well and a curiosity that would keep life interesting. It wasn't the lightning bolt that others had spoken of but rather a warm, toasty feeling that made him feel good all over. Putting his hand over his heart, he felt surprise that he was almost ready to ask her to stay, that he wanted her to stay. It was as though she belonged to Erebor, that she was part of the family already.

_I need to think on this. I need to be sure. If I still feel this way tomorrow, I'll ask her after the evening feast_—_in the gardens._

He grinned at his new-found peace, the kind that came from resolving a nagging problem that seemed to have no solution.

For his part, Thorin felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were wide. When coming to a new section, her brows would pinch together until she worked it out, and then she'd bite her lip in excitement or close her eyes in rapture. Never before had anyone taken Erebor's measure in such a way, and he was captivated.

"It's a scene of the founding of Erebor," he said, "and it covers the entire wall."

"The _entire_ wall?" she said. She patted the wall again, although she could feel little more than boots, wheels, pickaxes, gears, and mining equipment.

He grunted, and she giggled, bringing a smile to his face.

"That's a yes, I take it?" she said. "I want to see _everything_. Where can we go now?"

They were cheered by having something pleasant to do since their days had been occupied with much more depressing duties, but before anyone could answer, he cleared his throat.

"Kili, I need you with me for the morning. Fili's already in the council chambers. Please excuse us, Areen. Perhaps we can rejoin you later, but we have some matters to attend to." He hesitated. "Perhaps Kili told you that I sent out ravens to bring word of your friends. We hope to have news soon."

He watched her try to steady herself, and she lifted her chin and looked slightly beyond him. No one spoke knowing the question she had to ask.

"I thank you, my lord, for your efforts. They mean the world to me. What are your intentions?"

Thorin took a deep breath, and she cocked her head to listen. With that one breath he told her what she wanted to know, and her eyes glimmered with tears.

"We're waiting for word from Lake-town. If it reaches there we must close the gates. We don't know how fast it's spreading, but we will not abandon them, I swear. Somehow we'll find a way to keep them away from the mountain but somewhere safe nearby. I promise you we'll do everything we can to protect them."

She twisted her neck to one side over her shoulder and wiped her eyes before straightening.

"Lord Vinn's no fool, my lord," she said, facing him head on, "and I believe he would have them all take the medicine as a precaution. If I'm right, would that affect your decision?"

Thorin looked over to Kili and Balin who nodded, Kili more vigorously. He hadn't considered that possibility, but it made sense that someone as shrewd as Areen had described would do such a thing. He smiled and inclined his head but caught himself.

"Yes, it would to some extent," he said. He watched her face change from wary and determined to grateful and joyous. "If they've been taking the medicine and arrive healthy, I would have Oin and the healers check them. If he clears them, then we would gladly welcome them in."

"We won't abandon your people, Areen," Kili said.

* * *

I heaved a great sigh. I didn't understand until that moment the depth of their generosity. Dwarves, of course, were generous and hospitable to kin and clan, but this went beyond expected courtesy, and I felt more tears prick my eyes. At least in this immediate circle and with a few others, I was understood and accepted. Some of the company was skeptical, and some might still be—especially me with Sky—but all had been kind. I turned toward Kili—this time sure it was Kili—and held out my arms. He took them and pulled me forward against his chest. My arms went up and around him. He seemed to know what I was feeling and hugged me close, dropping his chin on the back of my neck.

"Thank you! Thank you!" I said between sniffles.

"You're welcome, Areen," he said against my neck, "but you ought to thank uncle. He's the one allowing this."

Oh yes, of course, but I wasn't about to hug King Thorin even though he was a great storyteller and Frerin adored him. It was just too _odd_. Hugging King Thorin would be like hugging Aule. There was just this line that I wouldn't feel comfortable crossing, a big, fat line. I didn't know why, but I couldn't imagine my feelings would ever change. It would take some kind of cataclysm, some disaster to ever make me feel that he was a dwarf like any other. Wounded on the battlefield I could imagine, but hay fever, bad breath, _gas?_ I couldn't see it. All the same, Kili was right, and he turned me toward the king.

"I thank you, Your Majesty. It's beyond generous." I was surprised when he took my hand and held it between both of his.

"I know what they mean to you, and we _will_ find a way."

Once he let go of my hand, I curtsied as was right. Once again he surprised me with his compassion.

"I'm so grateful, my lord, you have no idea." He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like dismay.

"I do, and it's Thorin. How many times must I ask you?"

"Once more as always, my lord," I said. "It's just that you're too … too …."

"Too what?" he prodded.

"Too much of a king to be just Thorin … at least to me."

After touching a few more walls, Ori and Bofur led the way to the art gallery.

"You do know I'm blind, don't you, Bofur?"

"Of course, lass, but this is the sculpture gallery."

Along the way I heard the whispers of disapproving voices and shocked gasps of those who had figured out why I needed Sky. I also heard the curious whispers of those who had heard what had happened with Frerin and the orcs. They ranged from noncommittal to approving. I passed by with my head held high and my heart steeling itself. The company took notice and closed ranks. I felt like I was within a moving fortress, and I reached out to squeeze Bofur's arm at the next stairway.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"I can hear what they're saying, Bofur," I said. "I may be blind, but I'm not deaf." He sighed and patted my hand on his arm. "Thank you for championing me when it'll win you no friends." At that he scoffed.

"I have all I need, Areen."

The sculpture gallery was an interesting place to say the least. Most of the sculptures were centuries old. Evidently, Smaug had no interest in art and overlooked the gallery. I was doubly sure he did after Ori described in flowery detail various hairy and naked warriors posed in combat positions and naked and lounging dwarf maidens in poetic ensembles—described in _excruciating_ detail. Not exactly the treasure Smaug had in mind when he burst through the gates. However, since the quest, a few more installations were allowed. In fact, one for each member of the company, whatever he requested. Nori commissioned a quarter-scale scene of the dwarves splashing naked in Rivendell's large fountain. He offered to take me over there to have a feel, but the others loudly protested his suggestion and I wouldn't have anyway. I couldn't imagine a greater or longer-lasting humiliation than mistaking a particular something for a pump handle. A safer bet was a tableau of the company standing with weapons hoisted in the face of the fire drake. I started there first.

"I want to see Kili."

"Of course you do, lass," Bofur said. The others behind me snickered and made sly jokes and bets on how long it would take him to ask for my hand. I told them that I had already given it to him—in friendship. Their initial gasps were followed by groans. "Unfair, lass, but we deserved that."

Taking me by the hand, he led me over to the statue of Kili and moved a step stool so I could reach his face. He was standing with his bow drawn, arrow to cheek. I felt his marble hair and curve of his face. His beardless chin had a cleft, and his eyes were intent on the dragon in front of him. I explored his face with my hands until I realized no one was making a sound.

"_What?_"

"Do you touch everyone like that?" Ori asked. "The way your fingers move would make me feel ..."

"... like a spider was crawling across my face," Nori finished. "Ow! Will you _stop_ that!"

The others pushed forward and offered their criticisms and critiques of both the statue and my findings. Kili was close to what I had pictured only even more attractive. I found it hard to believe that he hadn't found a wife yet. He had an impish curve of the mouth countered by straight brows above almond eyes that could slay one with a look. That King Thorin actually thought I might suit his glorious sister-son—even if I was last choice—was flattering, I had to admit.

"Quite the looker, isn't he?" Balin said. "Of course, that's his warrior face, but just about any expression he makes has the ladies swooning."

"Have you touched _him_ like that?" Gloin asked.

"No, of course not."

"Why not?" Bofur asked "I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Might speed things up a bit."

"Brave lad," Balin said, ignoring Bofur's words, "but can't call him lad now. Quite the dwarrow he's become and a prince besides. Any young lass would consider him a blessing from Mahal, _any_ lass."

"Oh, yes, Kili has them dropping in the hallways," Bombur said.

"What? Flies?" I asked. "I thought you weren't so sure about me, Gloin, Bombur, and now you're trying to keep me here?"

There was a little shifting of feet from those who had trouble adjusting to Sky and me by extension, but something had changed. Balin spoke for them all.

"We did you a great disservice, lass," he said. "You showed your true self with Frerin. Many a maid would have skedaddled to save her skin, but you did everything you could to protect him. You're a Durin at heart, Areen, and that makes you good enough for our prince." I was stunned by what he had said but before I could feel the least bit pleased, Nori put things in proper perspective.

"Even if you are a little ..." he began.

"A little what?"

"A little plump. Ow! Er, well-fed."

I felt the scale version of Smaug next, and even smaller he was terrifying. Dori told me his version of what happened and how the dragon was drenched in gold only to shake it off and torch Lake-town. I pictured the city in flames and people on fire jumping into the water. They had gotten good at being my eyes for me, and I think they enjoyed flavoring their stories a bit. Nori protested Dori's, um, version of events, but he said that he was within the bounds of artistic license. I gathered that meant that I would never be told the truth again. Moving on I was able to touch Fili's winsome face and King Thorin's marble hand clenched around his sword called ... Orcrist, yes, that was it. I put both my hands around his as he had done for me and thanked him again. I wanted to explore more, but cleaners had come in to polish the floors and wished us out. We could have overruled them but didn't want to be ungrateful. They had lugged a lot of equipment up the stairs.

"We'll come back later, Areen," Dori said. "What else would you like to see?"

I already knew. "I want to see the forges and mines. They're safe, aren't they?"

* * *

**My thanks to lotro .com for the khuzdul phrase *Dwarves Strike the Earth! and to Painton for her beta skills. I hope you enjoyed. It would be nice to hear from readers after so long, so please review. **


	28. Chapter 28

**Thanks for your lovely reviews! I get the feeling though that no matter which way things go, some of you are going to be angry. I hope that doesn't mean you'll stop reading or send me malware through the Internet! However, I do need to keep things balanced so Dearreader and other Heir of Durin fans, this one is for you. You've waited long enough.**

* * *

They didn't seem too keen on taking me down the many staircases into the deep and instead ventured to suggest the perfumers and lotion makers. Nori's idea to visit the weavers was booed by the others, but at least he tried to appeal to my sense of touch. They were figuring it out, and I thanked him.

"Shame though. Have you ever touched sackcloth?" he asked.

"No, is that something you wear often, Nori?"

The perfumers were a pleasant bunch who appreciated my sense of smell, which outweighed any qualms they may have had about me otherwise. I pictured them with over-sized noses and floppy nose hairs that waved back and forth like willow tree fronds as they sucked in and blew out aromas. Maybe their nose hairs were sometimes mistaken for mustaches. Could be. It was possible. In any case I was happy to be there. I had a lot in common with their particular skill. Those with allergies wouldn't do well, nor anyone who gets headaches from smells. Thankfully, I didn't have those afflictions and took my time sniffing away.

"Your stocks are superb, masters." I also got to smell "royal" perfumes, royal in that no one else got to wear them, and divine hair lotions and soaps. Nori was made to carry the basket of little bottles they gave me. It really was an art form, I said, and they agreed vigorously.

"Everyone should think that the cologne or perfume is natural," said Master Dorn, head of the department. "They shouldn't think 'That smells wonderful' but rather he or she smells wonderful. Don't you agree, my lady?"

"Spot on, Master Dorn," I said, "and I would even say that perfumes and lotions of this caliber must have been responsible for more than one wedding."

He made many puffing up noises, and I knew with that answer I was welcome back anytime.

"Too true, my lady," he said leaning in, "and at another time, I'd be delighted to tell of our triumphs."

By the time I had visited the perfumers and lotion makers and stopped by the kitchens for a snack, it was time to see Frerin and Della before dinner. I played war with Frerin and got stuck being Azog. I was killed over and over in very imaginative ways, but my favorite was drowning by applesauce

Della had her feet up, but she was doing much better in general, and we talked in-between stabbings, hangings, eviscerations, and beheadings. She gasped and then called me over to put my hand on her stomach. The baby kicked hard, and we laughed. I was struck suddenly with a longing for a family of my own. It must have shown on my face because she hmmd knowingly.

"One day, Areen, one day, and perhaps sooner than you think." I visited until she needed her afternoon nap, and then I caught up with Kitra and Otha before I got dressed. They were having a splendid time at Erebor and loathed the thought of leaving.

"Have you decided whether you want to stay?" Otha said.

"He hasn't asked me yet."

"He will."

Another merry evening passed with Frerin on my knee, and I bounced him on my knee, pretending he was riding Summer. That was the closest he was ever going to get. Kili was more attentive than usual, and we shared many a joke and good-natured teasing.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" he asked.

"I think they're trying to keep me away, but I'd like to see the forges and mines if it's allowed. I don't want to be a nuisance though."

"Areen, you just went through a horrible experience and aren't fully recovered," he said with much hesitation. "We've had many visits by trading partners wishing to see our operations, of course, but the forges are a long way down and not fit for a lady."

"Kili, it's me."

"Areen, I know you don't think so, but you are _very_ much a lady."

Even so, he agreed to take me, and the next day I was up and ready to go early. I didn't know why I was so fascinated by the forges and mines unless it was because I had no experience with them, and they'd be a wholly new adventure. Not one that would keep me from munching though. Slif had sent up a nice pouch of goodies for my day away from the kitchens.

"It's dirty, Areen, and more than a mite dangerous if you're not careful," Bofur said as we made our way down. "Miners are a rough bunch, so be prepared that they might not have the best manners even for you. There's also finicky mines that have been giving us trouble. Touchy lasses they are, so we'll need to steer clear." I think he was trying to talk me out of it. In fact, they all were, but Kili took me down nonetheless with Nori tagging along since he wanted to see some of the new gem deposits. Sky wasn't allowed for obvious reasons, and Dwalin and Bifur met us there, Dwalin to test some steel and Bifur to inspect mining operations. Bofur wanted to see its progress. I felt better that they valid reasons for going.

I heard the roar and bellow of the forges surging toward me with the jolting force of an inferno raging just around the corner. It sounded so huge and so ... menacing at first that I could understand why they hesitated to take me. It wasn't for the faint of heart. They led me forward, and I gasped. I could see. _Really_ see.

"I can see this!" I said mesmerized. The huge, open room was cavernous, and I heard the sound of enormous clanking chains creaking as they strained to pull up heavy somethings. I couldn't see any of that, but then a huge bucket tipped over and made a waterfall of metal. It glowed so bright that it penetrated even my darkness. I thought it ironic that I'd have to go to the deepest part of the mountain to see the light, but I clapped my hand to my mouth and shook my head. I couldn't believe it. There before me was a metal wonderland. Great pours of molten ore flowed into streams that ran like rivers, and the forges themselves glowed, heaved, and puffed, and I imagined them as dragons lined up for battle. The thought of the company battling an actual fire drake suddenly became more real, and I felt a new wonder at their daring and courage. The heat slapped my face, but after getting accustomed to it, I held my arms wide and began to follow the motions and flow of the metal with my hands.

"You can see this?" Kili said with unrestrained delight. I turned to him, and just then a bright streak of white light lit up the room. For a second there, I thought, no, it was ridiculous to think so, but for a moment there I thought I might have seen him. I caught a flash of beautiful brown eyes in a handsome face framed by dark hair. I hadn't seen a face that clearly in years, but did the light perhaps sharpen something? Or perhaps my touching his marble likeness coupled with the light put the two together for an image. I grabbed his arm.

"Kili?"

I knew my eyes were on his face because of his sharp inhale.

"Areen, you're looking right at me. Did you ... see me?"

"Maybe I imagined it."

"And maybe you didn't," Bofur said. Dear Bofur. I was growing to love him. He was always so optimistic, and it was catching.

"I saw dark brown eyes, a wonderful smile, and dark hair held back above the ears."

"Oh, Mahal!" Kili grabbed my hands and held them to his chest. "You did see me! We will come down here _every_ day!"

We laughed like children, and everyone—even Nori—seemed genuinely happy for me. Not a whiff of sarcasm.

They crowded around with more questions than I had answers for, but Kili shushed them and kissed my hand slowly.

"This made it all worth it."

I could have stayed there all day, but the workers were ready to pour a huge amount of metal to make I didn't know what, and it was too dangerous for us to be standing so close without protection, so we headed to the mines.

"Only _slightly_ less dangerous," Dwalin grumbled. We headed first to the gem rooms where Kili introduced me to Grude, one of the head miners. I could feel him looking me over and finding me wanting. The others left to their various tasks until only Kili and I were left.

"So Her Royal Highness has taken a fancy to the mines?" Grude asked with minimal courtesy. "It's not for the likes of fine folk, but if you say so, my lord, I'll show her what's to be seen."

He led the way to the gem rooms, although they meant nothing to me, but I smiled and thanked him.

"Here you are, my lady, the finest gems to be found."

Kili explained the process of mining and cutting the stones, and I listened, fascinated to learn something new. I could hear the clink of the stones and the whirring of the cutting wheels, and I imagined dwarves bent over with loupes against their eyes checking the clarity and color of the stones. The sounds of the rooms were more delicate than of the forges, of course, but no less diligent. A gem cutter wandered over and asked Kili to advise him on a creation he was obviously very proud of, and Kili told Grude he would return shortly.

"It won't take long, Areen, and Nori said he'd be back in a minute. Grude, I expect you to take perfect care of her," and with that he turned and left. I listened to his footsteps fade before facing the gruff miner.

"Would you mind putting some gems in my hand, Master Grude. I'd like to feel them at least."

"At least, my lady?"

"Yes, Master Grude, I'm blind and can't see their color, but I can certainly feel the cut and polish, which I'm sure are of the highest caliber."

His shocked grunt and harsh breaths let me know all wasn't well, but Kili had left, and I needed to hold my own anyway. Besides Nori would be back shortly.

"Is something amiss, Master Grude?"

"_No_, my lady," he said, but both his over and under tones were filled with fear and resentment. My teeth set on edge, but I was the one who wanted to come down here, and Bofur did warn me. "Here are are finest of gems." He dumped them in my hand without ceremony, making sure, I was certain, not to touch my skin. "They are _perfect_. Without _fault_."

I felt them and agreed that they were wonderfully symmetrical and polished.

"Do you know what inclusions are, my lady?"

"I'm afraid not, Master Grude, but I would be glad to learn from your expertise."

I felt him lean closer, and his breath was stale and smelled of whiskey. That was never a good sign, and I almost recoiled but held myself steady.

"They're faults in gemstones that may _look_ well enough on the outside. Large inclusions render the stone _worthless_, and it's _crushed_ to be used as sandpaper perhaps but _nothing_ important." His meaning was obvious, but I refused to let it rattle me. It was just another battle of wills, and if I could hold my own with King Thorin, I could certainly handle Master Grude.

"I understand you perfectly, Master _Dwarf_," I replied. I felt him bristle, but it was my turn now. "However, sometimes faults are an advantage. A diamond may not be made into a necklace, but it can still make a formidable drill bit that can cut through _anything_ opposing it."

He paused to take in what I had said, but it didn't stop him from coming outright and speaking his mind. No doubt he felt he could do so since we were alone for the moment, a moment I sincerely hoped was almost over.

"Bad things come with the cursed. _Bad_ things. This plague's afeared, and maybe Mahal will send it here to punish us for welcoming you. If so, many an innocent might die. We've families."

I was furious. This was over the line all the way to Mirkwood, but I refused to give it any credence. A shifting of feet told me that other miners had heard him. I wished whatever business that took the others away was done. Kili would never have left me with Grude if he suspected anything like this, but fear can drive people to do and say things they wouldn't have otherwise. Then again, maybe he would have regardless. I suspected he was considered cantankerous but trustworthy, but the Durins were mistaken to think that their subjects' respect for them would carry over to me. Superstition touches a part of the soul that bows to no one.

"I've heard that many times, Master Dwarf, but haven't others been wounded in battle in such a way? I wasn't born blind, and my other senses have compensated. For example, I know that Erebor is rich in ore as well as gems, and I can tell the different kinds by smell. Iron, copper, gold, tin, and silver. Mahal wouldn't have given me this gift if I were cursed."

That rendered him speechless. I raised a brow, and I knew that though I wasn't looking at him directly I'd given him pause. I smiled inwardly at my reprieve, and another miner joined the conversation. I was aware that I was surrounded and also aware that not all shared Grude's opinion—at least not to his degree. if I could allay their fears somehow ...

"You can smell metal, my lady?" came a softer voice.

"Metal, yes, within reason, Master Dwarf." Before I knew it miners were crowding around holding up ore samples for me to sniff. I resented them treating me like a big-nosed hound, but it distracted them from any trouble Grude might stir up, so it was worth it. "Iron then copper again, my good dwarves," I said. "You're trying to trip me up, aren't you?" Their curiosity so far was favorable, and then one had the brilliant idea to take me to a so-far worthless mine.

"Perhaps she can tell if something's there!"

"I'd hate to think all our work's been for nothing."

Before I could stop them or call for anyone else, they hustled me to one of the mines. Of course, I couldn't sniff metal behind solid rock, but I hoped I wouldn't embarrass myself. A miner held my elbow, and Grude led us down a dank tunnel into one of several entrances. His sudden enthusiasm made me nervous.

"Perhaps we should get Prince Kili here or Bifur, or perhaps Lord Dwalin?" I asked.

"No need, my lady," Grude answered. "You _won't_ be in here long."

"_I_ won't?" The miners bustled through the damp shaft, bidding me pause and sniff at various sections.

"Well, my lady?"

"Can you tell something, my lady?" I ran my fingers over a crack in the rocks. Water was dripping down the face, which wasn't a good sign in a mine, but I did catch the faintest scent and pressed closer to the crack. Fresh metal was much more pungent as anyone who's cut metal could tell you. Leaning in, I thought I smelled gold.

"I'm not sure, my good dwarves, but I did catch the scent of what I think might be gold coming from this seam."

A great shout rang out, and they talked excitedly about bracing the mine ceiling to continue work.

"Can we leave now? Excuse me, I'd like to leave now," but they couldn't hear me in their enthusiasm. After a minute though, I heard even louder and very angry voices coming our way. Kili, Dwalin, Bofur, Bifur, and what sounded like King Thorin were moving quickly down the tunnel, and their voices mixed with miners clamoring to get out. Sounding like scared children, they scattered through the different tunnels pushing and shoving.

"Fateful day, my lady," Grude said as he stepped away with the last miners pushing to leave. I reached for his arm with both of mine but grabbed at air. "But worthless stones must sometimes be sacrificed for something much more valuable." Moving ahead of me, he heaved something, and it fell with a crash. A moment later, I heard a loud crack above my head.

* * *

The rocks fell with reverberating crashes and booms that throbbed in my ears and I screamed for help. Muffled shouts answered me and someone pushed me to my knees and covered me with his body with one arm bending my head under his chest and the other tight around my waist. Twitches of his body and pained grunts in my ear told me too clearly that he was taking blows meant for me. We were hunkered on the ground while the mountain fell on and around us. It was hard to breath. The air choked with dust, which was so thick that I could feel it gathering around my nose with every inhale until my nose was stuffy. It was over in less than a minute but it was enough to entomb us under the mountain. Before the last rock fell, the dwarf over me became dead weight.

I was no stranger to being in the dark, of course, but being in the dark alone with a seriously injured and possibly dead dwarf on top of me with no help to be had almost made me hysterical. His weight was crushing and trapped me on my knees. As best I could, I edged out from underneath him, and he tipped over on his side and fell against the rocks.

"Oh Mahal, oh Mahal, please don't be dead. Can you hear me? Can you hear me?"

I felt around and touched his leg. My hands scrabbled to shift rocks out from under him because he lay like a ragdoll flopped on the ground. Whatever hit him hard rolled away after impact. I worked up to his chest and placed my hand over his heart, which pulsed against my palm. Mahal be praised! He was alive. Swallowing the bile that was surging in my throat, I decided to start from the bottom and check his injuries. Both legs, well-muscled, had no broken bones that I could tell, and his arms were uninjured. He was large, larger than the average dwarf, and I thought he might be one of the miners. There had been so many voices echoing in the shaft that I couldn't make them all out.

Moving further I found that he was wearing furred robes over a fine tunic. Couldn't be a miner then. My choices were narrowing fast, and I didn't like any of them. His stomach was firm and his chest was broad and well-defined. He was obviously strong enough to be a miner or someone used to hard work, but his robes said something else. I pushed them aside and searched for wounds, slipping my hands around to his back as best I could. He had some swelling on his left side but no displaced ribs, although there was still the possibility of fractures. Any injuries were most likely on his back or head, but his robes were thick enough to have taken some of the beating. I shifted on my knees and moved closer to his face. His tunic was open at the neck, and I started feeling with my fingers. I felt long, wavy hair and a short beard and trimmed mustache. Not Kili. I sighed with relief. He survived. I wouldn't let myself believe anything else. Cupping the dwarrow's face in my hands, I ran my fingers through his hair around to the back of his head. Sure enough, there was a large, bleeding lump. He took that for me. Mahal, help him, he took that for me.

I shimmied off my softest underskirt and rolled it up to place underneath his head. Once I was sure he was as comfortable as an unconscious dwarf could be, I went back to my examination. I felt his forehead with its thick, straight brows and around his eyes. He had crinkles in the corners of his eyes and a deep line between his brows. He also had two cuffed braids by his ears, and one ear was bleeding down the lobe onto his neck. Thick lashes lay on his cheek and even in our dire straits I couldn't help thinking how unfair it was that our menfolk have prettier eyelashes. As if they needed such a thing? Whatever color his eyes were, they were large, large and fringed with heavy lashes. So unfair. His left cheek had a large scrape, likely from when he fell on his side, and his lips were bleeding, possibly from him biting them in pain. I reached under my gown again and tore another underskirt into strips and sections. Wetting one section with saliva, I dabbed his ear, lips, and cheek. Two others I folded and put behind his head. What I would give for some of the salves from home, but at least there wasn't any large-scale bleeding I could smell or feel. His cheeks had slight depressions, evidence of deep dimples. I hoped that meant he had a good sense of humor. He was going to need it. His was a narrower face than average for a dwarf, and he had a large nose, but it was straight and thin and not thick and bulbous like so many other dwarves. All in all he was extraordinarily handsome, and there was only one person he could be. His size, his physique, and his appearance led to only one possible conclusion.

"Lord Dwalin? Lord Dwalin? Can you hear me? Wake up. Please wake up."

I stroked his beautiful face, trying to wake him without hurting him. It was a little embarrassing to stroke the face of someone I had barely said two sentences to, but then again, we almost died together underneath the mountain, and I was only trying to help. Besides patting his hands and arms didn't work, and I wasn't going to pat anywhere else. I ran my hands through his thick hair and gently through the tangles, imagining I was sending him comfort. The back of my fingers stroked his cheeks and down his jaw along his beard. I'd never touched a dwarf like this before. To see the faces of friends wasn't unusual, but I had never stroked someone's face, at least not an adult face, and certainly not one as handsome as this. I hoped it was somehow soothing.

There was no sound in the cave, nothing but the last trickles of dust and our breathing. What if they thought we had died? That there was no hope? The quiet was worse than the noise of the forges. At least that was the sound of life, but this was nothingness, nothingness and pain. I tried patting his arm again and shook his shoulder just a smidge.

"Lord Dwalin, can you hear me? It's Areen."

He winced, and his head lolled on his makeshift pillow. A low, raspy moan was followed by a slight shifting. I moved a few rocks that might have been digging into his side.

"Lord Dwalin? Can you hear me?" He moaned again and strained to move. "No, no, don't try. You were hit on the head when the mine roof collapsed, so rest until the dizziness passes. I'll take care of you."

A gritty hand fumbled for mine and squeezed it. He cleared his throat several times before he could speak.

"Are you hurt?"

I froze before jerking my hand away. Shock stung my stomach. That wasn't Dwalin's voice, not by a long shot, and I suddenly remembered why Oin and my maids laughed so hard when I described King Thorin and Lord Dwalin, his comrade in arms.

_Well, Areen, my dear, you have them pegged exactly, except …._

_Except what?_

Except I had them reversed.

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**Finally! **


	29. Chapter 29

**Gee, stuck alone in a cave with Thorin. How horrible, but nothing gets decided here, so the saga continues! Thanks for your lovely reviews!**

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Sprays of smaller rocks pelted those dwarves still in the mine, and great clouds of dust filled the tunnels. Kili, Dwalin, Bofur, and Bifur tied handkerchiefs around their noses and made their way to the mine entrance as fast as they could with Bifur leading the way back through the shortest tunnel. The cave in had remade it though, and they stumbled over rocks that weren't there a moment ago. The mine had become an obstacle course, and at times they had to grab each other's arms and elbows to prevent falls on sharp edges. The going was hard. With dust burning their eyes, they felt along the walls and hurried toward the entrance, although they could scarcely see any light. They had watched the mountain swallow up their king, Areen, and a number of others and despaired that they could do nothing to help them.

Outside the miners were counting their companions, trying to find out who might still be in the mine. One of those missing was Grude, and they wondered if he had anything to do with what had happened. A dwarf named Nod had looked over his shoulder to see Grude pushing on a support with his shoulder when he should have been leading Princess Areen out. Nod was too far away to reach her in time, and he shared that news with those at the mine entrance. Those who had heard Grude's comments to Areen repeated them to the others, and they all speculated and whispered about what might have happened.

"The king, prince, and lords are missing!" yelled a dwarf running up to the crowd. Dwarves then rushed to check every possible location—even to venturing as far into the mine as they dared, but they found nothing. All fell silent at the thought that King Thorin, Prince Kili, and Lords Dwalin, Bofur, and Bifur might have perished. An air pocket was possible though. It had happened before. Other miners had been pulled out alive from other cave ins. Seriously injured, sometimes crippled, but alive. Terrible images flashed through their minds that they wouldn't dare share with the others, so they were profoundly relieved when Kili and the others stumbled out covered in dust.

"The king and princess are still in there!" Kili shouted. "Stop all work and get everyone digging on this tunnel," and he gave hurried directions to miners who ran from every direction to crowd around him. Now wasn't the time for recriminations. "Send for Prince Fili and Lord Balin as well as all mine foremen. I want everyone who's ever worked on the mine here _now_." Those who were a party to what had happened moved the fastest.

Bifur ordered the largest conveyor belts hustled in to remove the rock as fast as possible. After being alerted, Fili, Balin, and Dori ran down the stairs to the mine and arrived out of breath. Nori was running around frantic. He had returned from his business to find Areen gone and other miners talking about Grude's behavior.

"I should have been with her! I should have stayed with her!"

"How bad is it?" Fili asked. Kili's face was grim. Dust rimmed his eyes and had turned his hair gray.

"We can't see or hear them, Fili, but I have to believe they moved to the far wall. Uncle would do it if he had time to, so that's what we have to hope for."

"He would," Fili replied, "I know he would. We just have to get them before the air runs out. Let's get to it then."

"They'll make it. Uncle and Areen will make it." Kili's confident voice was matched by the fierce look on his face, the very one in the tableau in the sculpture room. "I refuse to believe anything else."

* * *

In hindsight, I should have known. Fili and Kili were very handsome, so why wouldn't King Thorin be? My early dislike of him had conjured a knobby appearance, and I was so sure I was right. Now that image was shattered. The large stump, the bald and tattooed head, the nostrils like chestnuts, the ugly bear of a king had transformed into a tall, broad-shouldered, strikingly handsome dwarf with a lovely head of hair. I was mortified. I had felt so justified thinking that he was cruel and homely with terrible manners. The charge of cruelty was dismissed soon enough, and his manners certainly improved after our talk, but I never got around to revising the homely part. He squeezed my hand harder, and my humiliation ratcheted up a notch.

"Are you hurt?" he asked. "Answer me."

Yep, no doubt about it. I had been stroking King Thorin's face and playing with his hair. I cringed in the dark, not that he could have seen.

"What?" I answered. "Oh, yes, I'm not hurt, thanks to you. You scared me half to death though."

I heard a creaky chuckle followed by painful coughing. I guessed at least two ribs broken. He settled himself before talking again.

"Better half than …."

He trailed off, but I got his meaning and stopped myself from slapping at his shoulder.

"Your welfare is my concern." His voice was quiet but unwavering and sure.

"Not _personally_ though. You have so many others who can …."

"_My_ concern. I brought you here, so ..."

I opened my mouth to argue but shut it just as fast. He didn't have the strength for arguing, and our circumstances were too dire to waste energy.

"Thank you."

"You're too stubborn and independent."

Well, maybe a little energy. "Thank you for pointing out what we already know, your kingship. If we get out of here, I'll be sure to imitate your docile demeanor."

"When, not if."

He was so calm that I almost believed him. Perhaps he was used to this, used to his mountain protesting the probing of its residents. I imagined it being as cranky as he was at times, but all joking aside I was scared. _Really_ scared.

"I'm scared. I feel like I'm waiting to die."

He fell silent again, and I touched him to make sure he was still with me.

"Have faith," he said. "We will get out. Even now they're ... working on it. I'm thankful that they ... had enlarged this part of the ... mine. Otherwise ... we wouldn't ... have enough ... air."

Well, thank goodness for that! We could have been crammed into the space of a crypt or worse. With a lot of effort I pushed away my morbid thoughts and tried to stay calm.

"How long do you think it will take?" I asked.

He sighed painfully. "That I don't know. It could be ... some days. We must prepare for hunger and thirst."

I felt around for my pouch and checked the contents. I had clutched it to me when the rocks began to fall. First things first. My treats were mushed but still intact. The thought of a nice snack settled me down straightaway.

"I was never good at rationing, but now's as good a time to learn as any."

He chuckled again.

"Except we've nothing to ration."

"That's what you think, my lord," and I counted out my provisions. "Let's see, I have currant scones, oat and raisin muffins, apple tarts, and, um, four thick slabs of cheese. Oh, and two bottles of cider."

I didn't need him to explain his next noise.

"Because I thought we'd be down here all day, and it's a long way from the kitchens."

"You are a wonder, Areen," he said before his voice trailed off. Another silence had me checking him again.

"My lord?" He stirred and hmmd. "Are you uncomfortable? Do you want to try to move?" My hand was on his shoulder, and I felt him nod. Focusing on him took my mind off our present state.

"Yes," he said, "but I've broken ribs."

"At least two," I agreed. "Tell me when you're ready." On the count of three, we pushed him up off the rocks. He did most of the work because he was so large I could barely grab a piece of him, but I gave it my all.

"I wish I could give you something for the pain."

"I am well enough. The dizziness is already fading."

"As long as _you_ don't."

"I'm not going anywhere, Areen, I promise you."

His sincerity silenced my wit, my retreat from unpleasant things and shield from fear. If he could be strong in adversity without it then so could I.

"I have a confession to make."

He grunted, and I smiled in the dark.

"I thought you were ugly," and I described Dwalin to him. He made a surprised noise.

"I don't think Dwalin would appreciate being described as ugly," he said, "but I understand why you thought so. I hope I've redeemed myself fully in your eyes."

"How could you not have? I said it before. You care for my people better than some of its own lords, and you saved me just now. I owe you my life, and I'm grateful, my lord."

His breath rumbled in his chest, building up to a response.

"I'll ask something of your ... gratitude then."

"Anything," I replied, and in that moment I knew what he'd ask. Handsome, clever, _and_ devious. I'd have to keep my eye on him.

"Call me Thorin."

As time passed ever so slowly, I kept watch over him to make sure he wouldn't die on me. He didn't say so, but he was in pain, however much he tried to pass it off, and I didn't know what to do. Of their own accord, my fingers found their way back to his head, and I started stroking before I even realized it. I'd never done such a thing before, but I'd also never been buried alive before, and I was completely unnerved. When I remembered my manners, I gulped and pulled away. He made a sound of protest. I was getting good at reading his wordless communications and knew what he meant.

"Yes, but it's inappropriate. Mahal, I'm not even a family member."

He reached out and found my fingers. "It helps."

Head wounds are nasty creatures that have a mind—no pun intended—of their own. I couldn't begrudge him something that distracted him from what must be awful pounding in his head, so my fingers felt their way back and started weaving through his waving strands.

"Better," he said, and he relaxed some against his rocky cot.

I kept kneading gently and stroking while thinking of an army of dwarves with pick axes on the other side. Maybe they even had a resident troll that had been trained for just such an occasion. After throwing him a roasted cow to get his strength up, he'd lumber to his feet and start swiping out boulders with spade-like hands. Maybe he was even halfway done. Maybe he needed to finish his spare ribs first and then he'd be along. Without thinking I tapped down King Thorin's face like I always did to see things, forgetting again to ask permission. After so many years, feeling around with my fingers had become an unconscious habit, although I'd never done it before to someone's face without asking first. My fingers would tap and touch anything and everything around me without my even realizing it. I touched like others saw, so I saw him resting, and I could tell from his easier breathing that he was feeling better.

"Is that how you see?" he asked.

"Oh, forgive me. I didn't mean to ..."

"Show me."

"Show you what?"

"Show me how you see."

He caught me off-guard _again_, but it _was_ a curious thing to others, and he was looking for anything to distract him, so I was willing to oblige.

"I touch things with my fingers in different positions to get an outline. Together they trace contours and separately they touch sensitive areas or a single feature." I ran my hands along his forehead and then my fingertips. I ran one finger down the deep line between his brows. "You have a lot of concerns, you know."

"Not surprising as king."

My fingers moved around his temples and down his cheeks. He exhaled and sagged against the boulder.

"But you also smile a lot. I wouldn't have thought so."

"I have much to smile about these days. What else can you tell?"

In response, I felt for and picked up his hand. It was a hand used to hard work and holding tools, weapons no doubt, but also hammers, I imagined. The nails were short and clean other than the dust from the mine, so more evidence of his fastidiousness. He had rough spots that felt like scars. They could have come from working with hot metal or cuts from battle. He had a heavy ring on his forefinger with a large cut stone. His middle finger held a ring almost exactly like the first but the stone was smaller. His ring finger had a plainer band with another cut stone. Something was engraved on the side, but I couldn't tell what it was. His pinky finger had a more ornate ring with three cut stones. He didn't strike me as vain so maybe rings of sentimental value? His fingertips were callused, and I felt them again and again, trying to puzzle out why they would be. Metal work, maybe, but something else perhaps? Something musical?

"You are used to hard work, and those rings are more than jewelry, aren't they?" His hand shifted in mine and gently squeezed my fingers.

"Yes, they are. _Much_ more than jewelry."

"Do you play a musical instrument? Your fingertips are callused."

"Very perceptive. A harp."

"You do? How lovely. I wouldn't have thought so. So what color are your eyes? And your hair?"

He paused, and his shoulders shook with mirth before another round of coughing.

"They are as blue as the cloudless summer sky, and my hair is as black as coal with veins of mithril running from my temples and top of my head."

I couldn't help laughing. He'd taken a page from Kili's book.

"Very picturesque."

"Isn't that what you require to see me?"

I let him sleep after that, making certain he didn't slip into a coma. After I was sure several hours had past, I started feeling a creeping chill. I wasn't dressed to stay down in the mines. Visit, yes, but take up residence, no, and I had taken off two of my three underskirts. I rubbed my arms and shivered. Perhaps a muffin would cheer me up, but my flabby will power grew a spine and told me to put it back, so I decided instead to investigate what was around me. Perhaps if I found the rock pile, I could shift some off our end and help our rescuers. Palming the dirt, I climbed over rocks to feel along the stone walls until I reached the large and newly created pile of rubble. It felt good to move, although I felt grubbier being in the dust. I started moving smaller stones to one side first. A larger one slid down, and I somehow managed to catch it. It was very heavy but I heaved and groaned and pushed it aside.

"Areen?" He had awakened, probably by the sound of the rock clacking as it tumbled down. "Where are you? What is happening?"

By this time, I felt pretty proud of myself. I hated sitting idle and had found some way to help us. He had helped me, and now it was my turn..

"I'm moving some rocks so our rescuers will have fewer to haul away. I'm pushing the smaller ones to the side."

His next words were clipped and strained.

"I … want … you … to … back … away … slowly."

"But I'm helping us get out."

"Away now. Areen! _Now_. Back away _now!"_

I was starting to move away when I realized why he was so adamant. The whole pile groaned and creaked as stones jockeyed for a better position in the shifting space. Another fall of rocks sent me screaming and tumbling on my hands and knees.

"Areen!" he shouted. "Areen! Talk to me! Talk to me!"

I wasn't hurt but once again my breath was knocked out of me. He heard rattling gasps like I was on my last lungful. My chest burned.

"Stay with me, Areen, _stay_ with me!"

"I'm, I'm here," I said, rushing to calm him through snatches of air. Mahal knows he had endured enough today to be worried about me. No doubt that brow was creasing again. "I'm not hurt. Just surprised."

"Are you sure? Don't hide anything from me."

"Perfectly."

"Just make your way back to me." Turning toward his voice, I felt around for safe ground and came on something other than rock. In an instinctive reaction, I pulled my hand away, but after I had taken a deep breath, I reached out and put my hand on what felt like the toe of a boot barely out of the rocks. Oh, Mahal! I nearly retched and couldn't help convulsive whimpers. It was too horrible to think that someone was buried underneath the rubble only a short distance away. Would blood start oozing out of the rocks? Could this poor soul hear us somehow? Was he gasping for air, whispering for help? I pushed on the toe, hoping to hear or feel something and yet hoping not to. My fingers gripped the toe, but nothing moved. Mahal, could I have killed him by pushing the rocks to one side?

"Areen? Areen, what is it? What is it?"

I clamped both hands over my mouth to keep from screaming, but I couldn't hold it in completely.

"Areen!" I heard him breathing faster and stumbling to find me.

"No!" I said. "Don't come any closer." I sounded hysterical, but that only made him more determined to reach me. Pained exhales marked his progress. I should have gone back to him, kept him where he was, but I couldn't move. Soon enough his hands reached me, and he pulled me toward him.

"What is it?"

I couldn't answer at first. Finally, I fumbled around then guided his hand to the toe. He inhaled sharply and felt the tip. After giving a sad exhale, he pulled me to him and held my head against his chest. With his arms tight around me, he swayed back and forth, and that broke something inside me.

"Oh Mahal, oh Mahal, he's dead. He died alone. Never got the chance to say goodbye to those he loved. This morning, this morning he thought he'd come back. Oh!" He kept on rocking me and letting me cry without trying to lessen what I felt. I was very thankful for his quiet support.

"It was quick," he said, "too quick to suffer pain, and it's not Kili nor anyone you know. The boot belongs to a miner."

"What if I killed him when I moved the rocks?"

He squeezed me tighter, and I felt him shake his head.

"No. He died instantly, trust me."

After I had soaked the front of his tunic, I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, and he patted my back gently. Together we made our way as far away from the rock pile as possible, and even with broken ribs, he was careful to help me over rocks and other obstacles.

"It would be better if we were further away," he said, "because the ceiling is better braced back there."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone so far, but I wanted to help, and I thought that doing something would warm me up."

His voice turned stern again.

"You're cold?" At once, he started struggling. "Take my robe." Not on his life, which it just might mean if the cold sent him into shock, and I wouldn't have him die to keep me warm.

"No," I said just as firmly, "I'll unbind my hair since I'm not going anywhere now." My hair was very thick, and I often put it up to keep it off my neck, but it would be helpful now. Braid by braid, I pulled my hair free and felt warmer at once.

"Independent."

"Keeping you alive."

He said nothing but started moving quietly. After a few minutes, I felt a heavy fur robe push on me.

"Wear it."

"I couldn't."

"It does me good to know you aren't suffering, Areen. I insist."

"Very well, but I don't need all of it. You take some, and I'll take some." Finding him again in the dark, I tugged the robe lengthwise over his waist. It was enough to cover me almost completely and him up to the chest. "Will you talk to me?" I asked in a small voice. I needed a diversion desperately. "Do you feel well enough to?"

"What do you wish to hear?"

"I want to know your most embarrassing moment."

His shoulders shook again, but this time he didn't cough as hard. Improvement, I hoped. We were trying to regain our bearings after a few minutes ago, and humor was all we had.

"Kings don't have embarrassing moments, Areen. It's forbidden by law. There can only be _unfortunate_ circumstances." His dimples must have been as deep as thimbles with that line. I could tell he was trying to cheer me up, and I was happy to let him.

"So tell me one of those."

"I was prince not king when it happened. It was a long time ago. In fact, I'd forgotten about it until now."

"You're stalling."

"I was young and foolish, and it was a hot day. Myself and sons of other nobles went down to a stream and stripped off to swim."

"Naked?" That must have been quite a sight based on my limited exploration. However, my imagination blanked out of respect, and a thick fog covered the then-prince from the shoulders down.

"I was coming back from a trade meeting, and the day was hot."

"Naked it is then." My imagination stubbornly refused to go there though despite all efforts to prod it into submission, so I gave up mental pictures.

"As I was _saying_, we were swimming to relieve the heat and dust from the road, so we bathed in the river only to find we weren't alone. Women from Dale also happened to be there to do their washing a little ways downstream. Being closer to river bank, the others got out first and dressed, moving my clothes further away as a joke."

I couldn't forget what lay beyond in the dark, but I tried to imitate his example and make peace with it. "And?"

"And I … couldn't get my clothes without being seen, so I slid down into the water and made my way toward their dirty laundry." He paused again.

"Don't stop now."

"I hid near their piles. My own clothes were just beyond. However, one of the women mistook my hair for washing and yanked on it, thinking it was a shirt or some such."

"What happened?"

"My head cleared the water."

"Popped out like a frog."

"If you wish. They were startled."

"Ran screaming in terror."

"Do you want to tell my story?"

"It's a little dry."

"They were … horrified and thought I was some water ogre and ran away shrieking something about trolls living in the stream. I found my clothes quickly enough after that and made my way home."

I couldn't help it, which was what he may have intended. I pushed my face in his robes and howled until I lost my breath. It was just what I needed, and my emotions were very happy to be relieved in such a healthy way. He waited calmly, although I was sure I could detect soft chuckles. When I was done, which took some time, I was left with a question.

"Why did they think you a troll? You're very handsome." Oh! I felt the blush to my very toes once the words were out of my mouth. I might not be able to see a handsome face, but I could certainly feel one and have my imagination supply the rest, but fumbling over my words would have been worse, so I let them go in the spirit of scientific inquiry.

"You think me handsome?"

"In a strong, kingly sort of way. I'm sure the ladies of the court think so."

He shifted toward me but didn't answer.

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**Ah, how nice. Please review and let me know what you think should come next! Thanks Painton for your hard work!**


	30. Chapter 30

**What lovely readers you are! Thanks for the funny and thoughtful reviews. **

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"Get out! Get out! It's going! It's going!"

Miners scrambled out of the way of yet another fall of rocks. Weakened by the initial cave in, the mine ceiling couldn't withstand the vibrations of the huge conveyor belts and collapsed section by section. Bifur trudged out hanging his head. No one was hurt this time, but the setback was disheartening.

"What now?" Bofur asked. "We _can't_ give up."

"Who said _anything_ about giving up?" Fili said scowling.

"I didn't _mean_ ..."

"Enough," Kili said. "This isn't helping."

"No, you're right," Fili agreed. "Sorry, Bofur."

"I know. We're all worried."

Miners and others had worked for hours hauling away stone and were now sitting with their backs against the rock, so filthy that they blended in to look like a row of boulders. Fili and Kili had worked shoulder to shoulder with the miners as had most of the company. Della wanted to come down to see for herself, but Fili wouldn't hear of it. Nori refused any break and worked until they could barely recognize him, covered in dust as he was.

"Bifur," Fili ordered, "send in the second shift to reinforce supports and the third to remove rock after the supports are in place."

Kili turned to the mine foremen and discussed their findings. The situation was precarious, and they went over the state of the different tunnels. One was completely blocked, but two others were still partially open.

"Concentrate all work on the strongest tunnel," Kili said.

"But, my lord, that one is longer and will take more time."

"We'll move faster if we don't have to contend with more rock falls."

"Yes, my lord. You heard, my lord! Up you go!"

The weary dwarves against the walls roused themselves, shook off their fatigue, and headed back into the mines. Their hearts were willing, but their bodies were tired. No one was willing to lose hope though. Thorin Oakenshield had prevailed against a dragon and a host of enemies at the gate. They were sure he wouldn't be taken down by a simple mine accident—almost sure.

"I want the fourth and fifth shifts ready as relief and healers down here as well to treat injuries," Kili ordered. "I hope we don't have any need for them, but we won't take any chances."

* * *

He was shivering. Thorin was shivering. I touched his clammy hand and felt for his face. He was drenched in sweat. Shock. I was sure of it. I'd seen it once before when I was little. There was some kind of accident, and the poor dwarf actually turned gray. I'd never forget the look on his face and that he didn't even know where he was. I shouldn't have moved from our spot. It had exhausted Thorin to come after me, yet he acted as if he wasn't hurt, even to keeping me amused and my mind occupied. He was paying for it now. Maybe more than two ribs broken. I heard him trying to master his pain with even breaths, but little hitches and gasps gave away the effort. I searched that memory and remembered that they had picked up the dwarf's feet. I huffed and puffed to elevate his feet on some rocks, and then I tucked his fur robes around him. He really needed his chest bound. I had seen that as well long ago, but I didn't remember how to do it. I had one underskirt left. Working under the fur robe I pushed it off and out. The linen was strong and I set about ripping it like I had the other two. I had no idea if it would work, but I had to believe that he'd know enough to help me if he was able.

"What are you ... doing?" he asked between snatches of breath.

"You need to have your ribs bound. We can't risk dislocation, and it will help the pain. It's my fault you're hurting now."

He took in a careful breath.

"I don't want you ... using your clothes. You're ... cold, and cold is ... dangerous."

"Too late."

When I was done, I ran through how I would do it. I could hurt him more than help if I bound him too tightly.

"I need you to tell me what to do."

"You need you to pull up my tunic." I tried hard not to jostle him but wasn't always successful, and more than once he shook so hard that I had to cover him back up. Little by little though, we inched it up, and I felt along his ribs. He flinched when I found the fractures, and I gasped in sympathy. He put his palm over my hand.

"Don't be afraid ... Areen. I've broken ribs ... before."

"I _am_ afraid. Mahal, it was a lot easier feeling around when you were unconscious." Silence. Ew. That didn't sound right at all. "I, uh, wanted to make sure you weren't dead, of course."

"Of course," he managed to say with a perfectly correct overtone and much amused undertone.

"You're making fun of me again. I was really afraid you had died."

"You mean ... that Dwalin ... had died."

"Don't make me hit you."

It was slow going. I stopped often to check on him, and once or twice I thought he might have fainted. Mahal, I could barely get my arms around him, and more than once my cheek smacked against his chest. Even so, now that I had blown my nose, I had to say I recognized the musky scent I associated with him. In fact, I might have recognized him right off from his scent alone if the dust hadn't clogged my nose. Kili always smelled pretty wonderful himself. In fact, they all did except for Nori who favored a heavy, and I mean, _heavy_ pine scent when he didn't smell like liver and onions. Or maybe that was his _other_ choice. Lord Boron smelled like that too, and I pictured them holding up bottles shaped like onions and chicken livers and discussing their merits. Oin smelled a little medicinal, and Bombur like honey buns. After checking to make sure the bandages weren't too tight, I heaved a big sigh.

"Thank you." He shifted with a relieved exhale, and I felt like we accomplished something worthwhile. Still, it was hard on him, and he needed to rest. I kept his feet up and mopped his face with the scraps of linen we didn't use. Little by little he improved until I could tell the danger had passed.

"I must confess something," he said.

"You want to _confess? _No, no, don't talk now, you don't have to ..."

"You were first."

"Pardon me?"

"You were my first choice for Kili. You were from the start except I accepted Balin's council to start elsewhere."

Many thoughts sprinted through my brain but only one sat down to listen.

"Why?"

"I had heard you had spirit and cared little for trappings of power or station. Many would play the part, but Kili deserves someone who would love him for himself."

"I must have been a great disappointment then."

"I was very concerned," he replied.

"That's why you were so angry."

"Not at _first_. I wasn't angry at _first_. It was only after I thought he was being manipulated that I grew angry, but I should never have interfered. I didn't consider your feelings in the matter and that was inexcusable."

"Pretty darn near."

"I _am_ sorry," he said with unmistakable humility. I didn't need to hear it, but it was endearing all the same.

"I understand. We'd do anything for those we love."

"True." He took in several deep breaths, and I wondered what was coming next, although I had a sneaking suspicion.

"I don't wish to pry, but may I ask how things are with Kili?"

"Yes, you do so." He huffed, and I had to laugh. He was terrible at subtlety—not that I was any better. "What do you want to know?"

"Are things well with him?"

"Your tone makes it sound like contract negotiations. Kili and I are good friends now, and I care about him very, _very_ much." Little rumbles let me know that he was trying to interpret the nuances. Did I love Kili? I was sure I was on my way, but love, love as in _in_ _love_ with him? So much had happened to take us off-course, but I couldn't imagine anyone _not_ falling in love with him.

"I ... see. Has he asked you to stay?"

"No."

"Would you?"

Now that was more difficult to answer, although it seemed I already had.

"I can't answer that until after Feron comes. We've been friends all our lives, and maybe when he comes, I'll feel like I belong with him." There. That was a proper response. I didn't want him thinking I was rejecting Kili. Far from it.

"I ... see," he replied slowly. "Do you think of this Feron as a suitor?"

"I hadn't until he proposed, although I had the most outrageous crush on him when I was younger."

"How much younger?"

"About 15 years ago."

He exhaled with what sounded like relief, but I wasn't sure until I heard a little snort of satisfaction a moment later. Feron obviously didn't rate as a suitor in his opinion. Of course, he wanted to see Kili happy if my staying would make him happy. Mahal, that's why he was willing to make an arse of himself in the first place, but Feron was a best friend, and I wouldn't have anyone thinking badly of him.

"But don't think Feron's not special to me," I said hotly. _No_ _one_ would disrespect my friends. "He's _wonderful_, and he's always stood up for me even when it caused him trouble—a lot of trouble."

"I can understand why that's important to you given the situation at home," he replied in a much softer voice, no doubt realizing he offended me with his easy dismissal of my lifelong friend. I wasn't ready to let it go though. Feron _was_ coming, he was, and I wanted him treated well. He deserved it.

"_Very_, but that's not all. We have so much history together, and we care about the same things. He's noble-born, so it would be a good match, but more important he loves our people deeply and risks his life for them."

"As have _we_."

Now he was definitely making a case for staying.

"Kili may not ask, you know."

"He's not the only Durin who can." He let that one hang there as heavy as the rocks above our heads for a beat too long. "Frerin is determined to keep you here," he finished. I laughed then and he chuckled along. Dearest Frerin. He alone was worth staying for. I didn't know why I said what came next, but it seemed important somehow.

"I don't feel like myself anymore though. Maybe it's because father's not here, but I feel _different_ like if I went home now I wouldn't think of it the same way. I don't know. Maybe it's being in such a different place or having things happen that changes you, so when you do go home, it doesn't _feel_ like home. Do you understand?"

"I do. Are you saying this about Feron?"

"I suppose, but even who I am now feels different. It was all planned for us to leave for the Iron Hills, but now ..."

"But now you're not sure you want to."

Thorin recognized her conflict and knew her time away from her father and the unstable political situation at home was changing her. Out from under his constant abuse, she was losing the burning resentment that threatened to quench forever her naturally exuberant disposition. By the same token, Erebor was also altering her perspective. For the first time in her life, she was part of a loving family, and he saw the sparkle in her sightless eyes when Fili talked with Della and Kili joked with the company.

It was also interesting to observe her with Frerin. She doted on him with a fierceness he hadn't seen from anyone other than a family member. She would make an excellent mother. The young woman burdened by a lifetime of mistreatment had thrown it off her back, and he'd be damned if her father loaded it back on when he arrived. Perhaps that's what her mother meant when she told Areen to ask him for help. Perhaps the help needed wasn't as much for her husband as it was for her daughter. Perhaps that was what she had intended from the start.

"Tell me about Feron and your other friends."

"That'll take awhile."

"I'm told I can listen when the occasion demands it," and he smiled in the dark.

It took some time but she shared about Feron's bravery and loyalty, Mebla's wit and nerve, and Tildur's impish sense of humor. He chuckled in all the right places and commented on some of their more daring escapades. Not surprisingly, she was a colorful storyteller with an enormous number of adjectives at her disposal. He'd have lost track of time if there was any to track.

"I'm pleased you have such friends, Areen. They made your life bearable under terrible circumstances, but they're behind you now."

* * *

Some time later I dozed off. I didn't know how I could have with what had happened and what lay just beyond, but maybe I dozed off _because_ of what had happened. It wasn't a good dozing off though. This darkness was of a different kind. It was as though the whole mountain was pressing down and trying to squeeze the life out of me. I dreamed that a huge crack opened above my head, and small rocks rained down on me while the whole mine shook. I tried to crawl away but was pinned against the floor. A sudden splitting sound in the distance followed by a few more rocks falling jerked me awake, and hysteria bubbled up again. I curled into a ball. He must have been listening because I felt him lean over.

"What is it?" His voice was the mellow, deep, molasses tone I'd always marveled at, and my stomach rumbled instinctively. He was feeling _much_ better. I couldn't answer, but he knew. "We're relatively safe here, Areen. I won't lie to you, but the supports here are strong, and we should be protected."

I answered with pants of breath. His words were meant to be comforting, but the word _relatively_ was up there in glittering, gold letters. He shifted closer.

"Areen," he said with quiet authority, "talk to me."

He was trying to help me, but I couldn't answer, and I lost what little control I had left. All sorts of wild imaginings marched through my mind, each more outrageous than the next. Some weren't even physically possible, but when fears run wild they're hard to round up. My teeth started chattering, and I felt like I was turning into a block of ice.

"I'm sorry," I said through gasps and chatters, "I don't mean to be trouble."

He made a soft noise in the back of this throat and exhaled slowly.

"You're not. If anything you've done remarkably well since coming here," he said. He paused. "Which by any standard has been a terrible experience," he added with chagrin.

In spite of my efforts and rising embarrassment, my chatters turned into whole body tremors, and he could feel me shivering. It was my turn now.

"I can't stop. I ... can't ... stop."

At once he pulled the robe off of us and threw it over me.

"B-but you n-need it."

"I'm well enough now."

He tucked the robe around me as I had done to him and pulled me up against him, his arms holding me close. His steadying heart beat soothed my mind, and he began to sing a deep-throated song that spoke of lives reclaimed and hope restored. I began to feel warm and even comfortable. Ridiculous after a cave in with a dead body nearby, but there it was. The fears of being crushed in the cold faded somewhat, and I was able to breath again. Just before I fell asleep, when reality gives way to the dream world, I heard a disembodied voice saying, "You've nothing to fear. Sleep. I will keep you safe." Before I succumbed completely, I felt fingers in my hair smoothing and stroking, and all my worries melted like butter, leaving behind a single drowsy thought.

_It was Thorin that night._

* * *

Thorin woke during the night or was it the next day? Turning his head, he strained to hear any noise, any sign that stones were being moved. Nothing. He was utterly disoriented and wondered again at Areen's ability to manage, both physically and emotionally. Those first years must have felt like a death sentence. He arched slightly to relieve the throb of his chest and felt Areen's head underneath his chin. She smelled like jasmine, and his lips pulled up on one side. She must have charmed Dorn into offering her a scent reserved for princesses and queens. She had a gift for charming dwarves in all positions. He shifted and tucked a loose edge of the robe more firmly around her. She wasn't what he had expected even given the reports. She was more ... complex. He had expected a lovely and charming young woman with an open view on life and she was that, but her unexpectedly off-kilter outlook was intriguing. She would do well for Kili and keep him laughing for many years to come, but the thought held less appeal than it did previously, and he couldn't pinpoint why.

She was peaceful now, and he noted her even breaths. He could only imagine what had been running through her mind, but he was pleased that she was more at ease now. Her soft weight filled his arms, and her light breaths tickled his neck. The feeling was ... deeply satisfying, although he didn't care to examine it too closely.

"Mmmm." She mumbled and dropped her head in the crook of his neck, nuzzling and rubbing. Once she had created the space she wanted, she drifted off again leaving him even more unsettled. Not what he had expected at all. It must be the circumstances they found themselves in, he thought. Yes, that more than answered any confusion.

"Thorin?" she whispered drowsily. "Mmmm."

_More than answers, aye._

"Yes, Areen, go back to sleep." Without thinking, he dropped a kiss on her forehead as he had done once before. Then it had been in concern for her state and desire to allay her fears. She sighed, still more asleep than awake.

"Thorin?"

"Yes, Areen?" She started stretching and yawned against his neck. Her lips touched his skin, and he shuddered and stilled the impulse to pull away. She was slow to rouse, and yawned again, ending with a slight squeak of pleasure before loud growls rumbled under the robe.

"Thorin?" She was definitely awake now. Her tone had changed from dreamy to hesitant.

"Yes, Areen?"

* * *

"Is it time to eat now?" I asked, not wanting to sound too desperate. My stomach woke up along with me, but I decided not to be the first one to eat. I didn't know how long we would be here, and I wanted to trust his judgment since he knew how to handle these things. At least he seemed to know. If he thought we needed to wait and ration, then I would follow his lead, but goodness it was hard! I would have eaten several times by now, and my food was calling to me. It was lonely and needed company.

"I think we should eat something to keep our strength up," he replied before chuckling at my huge sigh. "You've waited long enough."

A week ago or maybe even yesterday I would have been embarrassed by my stomach trying to get our attention. It made really loud, gurgling sounds when I was hungry, and if I didn't listen, it would growl angrily. it usually never got to that point. I disliked the one-way conversation. It _never_ listened even to the most reasonable of arguments, so I gave up trying years ago.

"What would you like?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"One of the apple tarts with a little cheese."

Ah, we were going to have apple tarts _and_ cheese. Things were looking up, and I felt quite rested and more myself.

"How about we have a picnic?" I asked. He made a surprised noise before laughing outright. I could tell that he was holding his ribs. Little grunts of pain were interspersed with hearty chuckles.

"Here? In the dark?"

"Why not? Besides, I'm almost always in the dark in Erebor." He stopped laughing then and gave a thoughtful hmm instead. I pulled out some linen napkins and laid them on the fur robe. "There, now let's see. I have a knife in here somewhere." I rummaged around until I heard the clink.

"Dare I ask what that is for?"

"The butter and honey."

I almost felt more than heard deep rumbles in his chest, but I didn't know what was so funny.

After I prepared his snack on a napkin, I set out my own and took little bites, savoring the flavor washing over my tongue.

"I don't believe I've ever seen or heard someone enjoy their food as much," he said.

"I enjoy what I have left. Besides, I can hear you licking your fingers, so you aren't too far behind."

"You've done wonders for Slif."

"Purely self-preservation. Um, Thorin?" Now I had to ask a question about several days ago, and I steeled myself to handle the embarrassment but my curiosity wouldn't let me back down and actually held me hostage at butter knife-point.

"After the orcs, I dreamed that someone came, sat on my bed and stroked my hair. Then that someone kissed me on my forehead. That was you, wasn't it?"

He didn't answer at first, but just before I asked again, he grunted a yes.

"Why?" I didn't know why I needed to know that answer, but I did.

"Because you were distressed and crying out in your sleep, and I couldn't let you remain that way, not after all you had done for us."

"Oh." A satisfactory answer that fit the situation nicely. Nothing untoward there. His holding me close served the same purpose. No need for at all embarrassment, so I patted my blushing cheeks and decided to relocate to neutral ground. No, I had to honest with myself. It wasn't neutral territory but instead a raid behind, um, allied lines, but since he saw fit to question me, turnabout had to be fair play.

"So what shall we talk of now?" I asked. I didn't let him answer. "Why don't we talk about _you?_ Have _you_ ever been in love? Have _you_ ever thought of having a wife and family?"

"You don't have any concept of privacy, do you?" he said with a testy grumble.

"Of course, but in this instance I'm simply following your example. You can hardly fault me now since _you _started it." I added an extra ironic zing on the _you_, and he groused about being caught in his own web.

"Turnabout's fair play, _Thorin_."

"Very well, never."

"_Never? _Why not?

"I answered your question in full ..."

"And said absolutely nothing. I want _details_." He paused and seemed to gather himself.

"I was too busy trying to settle my people."

"But they're settled now, so ..."

"I suppose that's true, but that time has passed."

"Not terribly optimistic are you?"

"Not looking is all. I helped raise Fili and Kili, so in a sense I have children."

Somehow that was ... unsatisfying. An honor and blessing, of course, and with two such fine dwarrow, one could hardly complain, but still ..."

"But didn't you ever think about it? Weren't there political alliances to consider at the very least?" He grew quiet, and I didn't know if I was resurrecting a painful memory or not. Perhaps I had blundered into a sensitive area. If so, it was time for a tactical retreat.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."

"Yes, you do so, but this conversation can hardly interest you."

"We're buried under the mountain and might die here, so we might as well."

"You are right. I never thought about it. There was always too much to do. If Erebor hadn't ... fallen, I'm sure it would have come up in due course."

I couldn't understand how he could be so disinterested and tried to find some way to keep us occupied. Sitting around in a freezing mine with a dead body nearby required constant distraction.

"Didn't anyone ever catch your eye?"

He was silent for so long I knew I had him.

"On occasion, but I soon learned most desired status. Of those few who didn't, their initial attractions didn't last long."

"Right, so now, right now, we're going to come up with a suitable wife—qualities not names."

"Areen ..."

"What, you have somewhere to be?" He heaved a great sigh of mock offendedness that I dispelled with a swat on his arm.

"Very well, if it amuses you," he said, but I was sure I detected the slightest twinkle in his tone.

"All in good fun, and you have to admit we need it. So what would she look like?"

"Appearance is secondary to character."

"You lose your turn with that answer. Now let's see. She's statuesque with flowing black hair, and she has a strong chin and warrior eyes that seem to see off into the distance. She's always wise and has the patience of the Valar. She never says the wrong thing and she's strong enough to beat the most skilled warrior. Everyone, even King Thranduil loves her and envies you for your good fortune. You met sparring in the ring, and she felled you. With her blade at your throat you looked up into the most beautiful eyes you'd ever seen and fell instantly in love.

"Instantly?"

"Of course."

* * *

Thorin thought about her description and found it wanting.

"The picture you're painting doesn't suit."

"Oh?"

"A paragon is more suited on a pedestal in the sculpture gallery."

"Someone like Della then?"

"That is an uncomfortable notion, but no. Della is a wonderful partner for Fili, but I think I would wish for someone different. Perhaps less conventional even."

"You're not serious?" She sounded flabbergasted, but he knew her initial impression of him would lead her to be surprised.

"I haven't given the matter much thought as I said, but it's something that came to mind."

"Does she have to play a musical instrument?" she asked. "Duets would be nice."

"Not necessarily, but if she doesn't she could always learn if she wishes."

"Sounds a little ..."

"A little what?"

"A little unromantic. What about a lovely, tinkling laugh or smile that lights up a room?"

"Those are fanciful notions."

"Shouldn't love be fanciful? What about a velvety voice, hips that swing like a bell, skin like cream, or a bosom that makes you pant with desire like a dog on a hot day? That sort of thing."

He couldn't help himself with the last comment and barked with laughter, trailing off into snorts of amusement.

"You asked me for my opinion," he said with a hint of a smile, "and I gave you what I had. I'm not accustomed to discussing my private life, nor have I ever bandied about suitable qualities of a wife, and _never_ have I considered hips that swing like a bell or skin like cream."

"You forgot the bosom part."

"It's time to change the subject."

* * *

**OK, enough time in the mine. The next chapter will move things along quite nicely.**


	31. Chapter 31

**This is a whopping chapter filled with all kinds of what I hope are chewy goodies. I know my writing isn't on par with the most popular and elegant stories topping the fanfic charts, but it's more important to me right now that you're all having fun and a few good belly laughs. Can't have enough laughter in our troubled world today! Thanks Painton for your wisdom. I value your perspective.**

* * *

**Chapter 31**

"What is the status of our provisions, Areen?"

"Spoken like a military commander."

"Which I am."

"Among other things."

"Which are?"

"You're fishing for compliments."

"Am I?"

"I am _not_ apologizing for the bosom remark!"

The walls and boulders of the cave repeated our laughter, acting like spectators to our verbal jousting. Per the commander's request, I felt around and counted out what we had left. We were still in good shape.

"We can hold out for three more days before we're out of provisions based on current usage, sire," I said with the air of a reporting captain. He harrumphed, and I saluted with a flourish in the dark, unable to contain my giggles.

"I'm grateful Slif thought to provide the cider else we'd be in worse shape," he said, ignoring my jest but giving himself away with a residual snort or two.

"So am I. Do you think the water in the cave might be good enough to drink when we run out?"

"No, it's likely contaminated."

"Oh." We ate a little more and then sat quietly. I hated silence. "Sooo …"

"What shall we talk of now?" he said in as close an imitation of my tone as a baritone could be. "Isn't that what you were going to say?"

"We've been here _entirely_ too long … but it's been wonderful getting to know you. I don't think I'd have had the same chance otherwise."

"No?"

"No, you'd be too busy being king."

* * *

Thorin heard the certainty in her voice and felt a pang of dismay. It was true that being king had more than its share of responsibilities and obligations, but too busy to talk to someone he didn't have business with? Too busy to share thoughts of any depth? _That_ didn't suit, and he swiftly ran through his usual schedule to discover she was right.

"Perhaps this is an opportunity to rethink things."

"Why should it be?"

Why indeed? Thorin had never questioned his obligations or unvarying routine that was carefully orchestrated to maximize efficiency and effectiveness. So long as it worked, he was satisfied, but now …

"I think it wise to periodically review one's actions to avoid missteps."

"Quite proper and correct. Do you always do everything just so?"

"I do what must be done. King isn't what I _do_, Areen. It's what I _am_."

"Oh."

I thought about that for a long time. He _was_ king. He really was. He lived his entire life in the public eye and was responsible for every final outcome. People were always watching him—weighing his every word even—and he accepted it with grace. Maybe that's why he enjoyed interactions with his family and company so much because he could let down his guard. It was the one place where he could stick the mantle on the mantle.

"You're quiet," he commented.

"Thousands depend on you. How do you manage their expectations?"

"Years of training. I was born to it, so I'm used to it."

"Would you want to be king if you had to enter a contest to win the title?"

"If I thought I could best serve my people, then yes, without hesitation."

"That's … admirable."

"You disagree?"

"No, it's just that it's more than most people would do if they knew the true extent of the responsibility."

"But not more than you, your mother, and your friends and other honest nobles would do and have done, so in that sense we're the same."

Another long silence. I thought through what he had said, and I had to agree he was right. I would compete for the privilege of easing my people's sufferings. Without hesitation.

"What are you thinking, Areen?"

"I was thinking you're right."

"Like I said."

I thought then about what my people had gone through and what they still faced with winter to prepare for. I didn't know what he was thinking, but I suspected he was reaching into his memories because after a few minutes he took a deep breath and seemed to shake off whatever was on his mind, although I could only judge by the rolling of his shoulders and almost nervous throat clearings before he changed the subject.

"I admire your cleverness in using your other senses, Areen."

"I had no choice."

"Yes, you did. You could have turned bitter at your fate."

"I did, but mother wouldn't let me stay that way."

"Did she teach you how to see people?"

"No, I had to learn that on my own." He said nothing, but I heard him shift again and pull himself up.

"May I?" His deep voice sounded tentative, and I wasn't sure what he was asking at first, but then I understood and was shocked. No one had _ever_ wanted to feel my face, but then again no one ever needed to. Yet here we were equals, so I guess it was natural he'd want to experience what it was like.

"How does it feel to be blind?" I asked.

"Very unsettling," he replied, "and I admire your ability to manage so well. It must have taken some time to become accustomed to it."

"Years."

"May I?"

"If you wish, but ..."

"But what?"

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I won't be offended if you stop."

"I understand. Please guide my hands."

I heard him brush them off before he held them up. I found his arms and then his hands and guided them to my face. They hit my face almost in a slap before he lessened the pressure. Thick fingers felt my hairline and forehead before they stroked down over my eyebrows and temples.

"I'm trying to picture you from touch alone. It isn't easy."

"No, but you get better with time."

His hands cupped my cheeks, and his fingertips fluttered over my nose and lips. I was surprised by how nice it was. I'd never been on the receiving end, so I never realized how good it could feel. His thumb rubbed that bump just above the corner of my mouth.

"Can you see me?"

"Yes. The same yet different." He was very gentle, and I felt a warmth flow through me and chase away the cold. Soft puffs of his breath on my face added to the heat. "Am I too rough?"

"No, not at all. Do you see me now?"

"Yes," and he pulled away leaving me oddly forlorn. No one had ever touched me just to touch me excepting general hugs from family and friends. I'd been primped and dressed and guided and gripped and grabbed, but not _touched_.

"I hope I didn't make you uneasy," he said, his voice sounding strangely choked.

"No, but would you mind telling me what you saw?"

"You don't know what you look like?"

"Not anymore. I mean, I touch my face, but I don't seem to see myself very well."

"I saw … you."

* * *

"More bad news?" Kili asked.

"What else?" Fili said, holding up several scrolls in a clenched fist. He sighed and dropped his head. Nothing was going right that morning. Workers were making progress, but with each hour, the chances of finding Thorin and Areen alive dimmed. Few had survived cave ins past three days, and they were on their fifth. Boastful stories about the king's exploits turned to mutterings about fate and the curse of the blind. Bofur and Dwalin made sure everyone knew the blame lay squarely on Grude and not on some superstitious curse, but every now and then they overheard miners wondering, not grumbling, mind, but ... wondering if there wasn't some truth to the superstition.

"More than 300 dead and 500 sick at the Iron Hills," Fili said. He held up another one. "Thranduil said that the sickness has spread beyond the Iron Hills to nearby settlements."

"What else?"

"The ravens returned."

"_And?_"

"Of the five caravans that were still on the road, three were attacked by orcs," Fili said, his voice getting softer with each word. "There were no survivors, and ... little remained to be identified."

Kili swore and ran his hand along the back of his head. He knew, they both knew, what that meant, and the thought of orcs feasting on their victims, leaving only scattered bones behind, turned their stomachs.

"The two that are left?"

"They're being pursued by orcs not far from Esgaroth. They seemed to have banded together for protection."

"So much for trying to stay away from others."

"It's the only way they're going to survive!"

Kili raised his hands. "I know, I _know!_" He refused to lose hope, but each blow landed hard, and he felt helpless, but at least with Thorin and Areen they could do _something_. He had to take some rest after working thirty hours straight, but he was ready to get back down there. "Uncle? Areen?"

Fili bobbed his head from side to side, trying to find something positive in the less-than-encouraging reports so far.

"No more cave ins."

"Well, that's something."

"The miners report that they're making their way to the last turn."

"Fili! That's great news!"

"I hope so."

* * *

Time passed and passed and _passed_. By now we had gotten used to the dank, cold cave and didn't even notice the smell of the musty air. We had arranged the rocks so we could sit with our backs against some support, and we even found a flatter rock to act as a table of sorts. We weren't comfortable, not at all, but we weren't exactly suffering either, not with Slif's treats to eat and Thorin's thick fur robes. He had worked out how much cider we would drink based on sleep cycles. We had a swallow or two after every long sleep, which we assumed took us from night to day, or maybe from day to night. Thank goodness the cave was large and had something of a natural pit at one end so we could answer nature's calls without too much embarrassment. Those extra strips of linen came in very handy, and we could rub our hands on the wet rocks and wash in the trickles of water. I was mortified, but Thorin took it in stride, probably from long experience traveling. When it was time to sleep we moved to an open spot we had cleared and nestled under the robe. Not the accommodations I ever expected to enjoy at Erebor, but at least I could attend to my business in private. To pass the time, I sometimes braided and unbraided my hair, and occasionally we played a rhyming word-association game.

"I fail to see how you could associate abstinence with flatulence," he said with all the hauteur of a king who was offended that the word _flatulence_ had to pass his lips, pun possibly intended. He acted like he'd never heard the word before. Faker.

"Don't you dare get all snobby on me, Thorin, not after you put obscene and gangrene together."

"Gangrene _is_ obscene, Areen. I thought that was clearly understood."

"And if you practice _abstinence_—especially from ale and cabbage—you won't have _flatulence_. I thought _that_ was clearly understood. Your turn. Oakenshield."

"Orcs will yield."

"Sentences don't count."

"It's my answer."

"Very well, I'll let it pass just this once for the sake of diplomatic relations."

"I'm not going to respond to that. Prevaricate."

"Are you _trying_ to get me to rhyme everything with bodily functions?"

"Not at all. It's your particular turn of mind that makes you think so, although I do think you enjoy trying to get a rise out of me."

"I don't believe you, and I'm not even going to touch that one."

Most often we sat side by side talking. We talked of many things. His childhood and mine. What life was like when he was prince. What happened on that tragic day when Smaug stole their home. How I lost my sight little by little and spent months being practiced on by healers who had no idea what to do.

"Did you really jump off the ledge and land on Smaug's snout? Dwalin said you did."

"I did. I didn't plan it, of course, but it was either leap or be burned to death."

"He was going to eat you. Weren't you scared?"

"I was too angry to be scared."

"Have you ... ever been scared?"

He didn't answer and said instead it was time to rest. We arranged ourselves as we found worked best with him on his side, my back pressed against his front with one arm slung around my waist, my head tucked under his chin, his knees under mine. It was the merest form of privacy, but it conserved body heat best. His deep and regular breathing always made my eyelids droop, so I was nearly asleep when he answered.

"When I thought I'd lost my sister-sons in battle," he said in a voice that was so low and came from so deep within that I imagined it coming from his very soul, "when I saw Azog holding Fili over the cliff, taunting me with a knife in his hand ... when Kili was stabbed, and I thought he was dying before my eyes, I was ... terrified. I was there for their first words, first steps, everything. I would have died with them the pain was so great."

I rolled over. No one should admit those things to someone's back, and I couldn't just lie there, so I reached up and met the hollow of his throat. He jolted at the contact, and his pulse pounded beneath my fingers. It seemed for a moment that he leaned against my palm ever so slightly, but I could have imagined it.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, that you all did. I can't imagine how awful it was, but you won, and Azog's dead, never to trouble you again."

"But what about you, Areen?" He sounded a little out of breath. "You've been tortured all your life."

"I wouldn't put it in those terms."

"I would, and I promise you _never_ again."

"You can't keep that promise, Thorin, but I'm grateful you offered."

In answer he captured my hand and pressed it over his heart, almost as a pledge. I felt his thumb twitch and slide against my palm, and I blushed in the dark.

"Yes, I can and I _will_."

We stayed there flush against each other, our breathing as loud as talking, until he patted my hand and motioned for me to roll over. We resumed our positions, both more at ease than we were a few minutes ago.

"Goodnight, Thorin," I said, playing out our little ritual to keep some normalcy in a most abnormal situation.

"Goodnight, Areen."

* * *

Thorin listened to her breathing deepen and knew she had fallen asleep. He always knew exactly when because she'd roll away from him, and he'd wrap both arms around her to pull her back and anchor her to him, telling himself it was only to keep her warm. Matters would be worse if she caught a chill, he reasoned. After rearranging his robes and tucking them around her, he would settle in himself only to have her tug his arm higher so that his hand lay against her cheek and lips, her soft breath warming his palm. It was at those times that his mind wandered, and he considered his situation—trapped in a cold mine with a young woman and sleeping together like lovers to keep from freezing to death. Certainly this was something he had never prepared for. Who would? He had to admit though that Areen made the experience bearable beyond the food she carried. Her sense of humor, which often bordered on the ridiculous, did much to dispel the gloom, but it was her ability to draw him out that left him both unnerved and invigorated. His thoughts then turned to her father, and a scowl pulled his mouth down. A reckoning was coming. He would answer for his actions, and Thorin would see that he never hurt her again. How he would go about it, he wasn't yet certain, but in his mind the matter was already settled and as immovable as the mountain itself.

_One way or another it's over. One way or another._

* * *

After a few hours of sleep I awoke feeling dizzy, and my chest felt tight. Something wasn't right.

"It's getting stuffy in here."

"Yes."

"We're running out of air, aren't we?"

"Don't lose hope, Areen."

"At least we're not starving." I tried to stay calm, but I was sure he heard the wobble in my voice because he reached for me and tucked me on his shoulder.

"We aren't dying today," he said firmly. He took in several deep breaths before he could talk again. "Listen to me, Areen. We _aren't_ dying today. They _will_ find us."

"But what if ..."

"No, _what_ _ifs_." He took several more deep breaths. "We _will_ live. You _will_ live. This is _my_ mountain, and I didn't win it back to die _here_." Another deep breath. "IT WILL NOT HAPPEN. I will _not_ allow it."

"Yes," I said following his lead. "Yes. We will not die today." I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he stroked my hair.

"Soon, Areen, soon … I swear."

Not long after I felt a waft on my cheek. A very good sign, and I perked right up. A moment later, he jerked and shifted. He felt it too.

"Thorin?"

"Yes, I know. Don't move." With that he got up and scouted nearby.

"Where are you going?" I hissed. I heard him pat the rock and slap at something in the dark. After he sounded satisfied, he came back and took me by the hand.

"We need to be under the strongest supports and over here is safer."

"Why?"

"They'll be moving rock and others may fall."

"You mean they could kill us trying to rescue us?"

He didn't answer but instead snaked one arm around my waist and held my elbow with his other hand. Step by step, he led me to a much rockier area.

"Careful! A rock there. Hold on to me. I'll go first." I thought once or twice that he wanted me to climb on his back, but his broken ribs would never have agreed. "Stop right there and don't move." He slapped at the walls of the cave and grunted. We had reached the safest place for our heads and the worst place for our seats. I tried to find some way to sit down, but where he wanted us to be was strewn with rocks all with pointy ends facing up.

"I know this isn't comfortable, but it's safer. Get behind me."

For the first time I heard a rumbling of rock and crumbles of grit splash on the ground. It grew louder and louder, and the cavern shook.

"Is it too late for another snack? They may take some time."

"Never too late," he said, his tone light and warm. I could hear the pride in his voice. He was very pleased his faith wasn't misplaced. "What do we have left?

He was a good rationer. We had enough to last another week if need be. Some rocks fell, and I felt his arm reach back to protect me. Soon we started hearing movement behind the rocks, and muffled sounds grew louder and sharper.

"Do you think we should shout and tell them we're here?" I asked. "Maybe bang on a rock?"

"Not until they're listening."

He waited until he heard a succession of loud clangs.

"Stay here," and he felt his way over to the pile.

I bit my lips and prayed to Mahal that nothing would happen to him.

I didn't know what he had on hand but he hit the side of the mine wall over and over with something hard. A silence and then an explosion of activity. He made his way back as fast as he could and put himself in front of me. The noise grew louder and louder, and the rumbling felt like a huge animal was approaching. Instinctively, I threw my arms out to ward it off.

"No, no, Areen, it's nothing more than conveyor belts, I promise." He pulled my arms down. "Nothing to fear."

"Nothing to fear, nothing to fear." I cast around for something to say.

"I saw Kili in the forges."

"What?"

"I saw Kili in the forges."

"How is that possible?"

I explained and he made a very pleased noise.

"I'm grateful that your first true sight in Erebor was of Kili."

"He's very handsome.""

"Takes after his mother."

"Where is she?"

He sighed then and put my fingers on the ornate ring on his pinky. _Much_ more than jewelry.

"This is one is hers. She died six months after coming to Erebor. She was already sick from a lump in her breast when she arrived, but I'm thankful she got to see her home again and enjoy it for a little while with her sons."

"I'm so sorry. That must have been awful."

"It was, but I was grateful to see her happy again."

"Will _you_ take me there someday?"

"To the forges?"

"Yes."

"You want to see me?"

"I do, yes, I do very much."

* * *

The miners broke through to see their king holding the princess' hand and that both were in much better shape and spirits than anyone had the right to expect. A great shout went up, and word traveled quickly that all was well. Bifur, Dwalin, Oin, and Fili and Kili pushed through with wide smiles. Heedless of those watching, Areen turned to Thorin and flung herself into his arms.

"Thank you! _Thank_ _you!"_ she said. "I wouldn't have made it without you."

"Nor I without you," he whispered into her hair. "It was my honor."

They broke apart, and the company rushed Thorin and threw their arms around their king with much laughter and backslapping while Kili went over to Areen who stood there wearing Thorin's robes with a wide smile on her face. She was covered in dust and had a few minor scrapes but otherwise looked well. Thorin grimaced after the last hug and gingerly propped himself up on a boulder while Oin checked and then rewrapped his ribs.

"I want you both in the sick rooms right away," he said. Thorin opened his mouth to protest, but Oin wagged his finger. "There may be injuries that aren't apparent, and I don't want either of you dropping later. You'll spend at least one night there."

Thorin remembered Areen screaming and gasping on the mine floor after she tumbled off the pile, and he agreed immediately, which sent Oin's brows into his hair. Thorin had never been an easy patient and usually did everything he could to avoid being one at all.

"So be it," Thorin said while watching Areen being fussed over by Kili, although this time she didn't seem to mind.

* * *

"Are you hurt?" Kili asked while chafing my hands. "Your fingers are freezing."

"Only a little," I said. "We kept warm as best we could. How long were we down here?"

"Five days."

"_Five days?_ I had no idea. Thank you for not giving up."

"Never," he said without hesitation. "If anyone could get through this it would be uncle."

"He saved my life from the falling rocks."

"Of course he did," he said with familial pride. "Not to say though that we weren't terribly worried," he added and with that he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. "Thank Mahal, thank Mahal."

I relaxed in his embrace only to have Nori burst on the scene like a bolting horse.

"Where is she? Where is she?"

I heard him almost skid to a stop in the dirt.

"Areen!" he said with obvious emotion before he caught himself and cleared his throat. "Erm, I see you haven't lost any weight after five days without food."

"I'm glad you're still alive too, Nori," I said with a smile while Thorin chuckled on the other side of the mine. Walking towards us, he put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me away to let me know what Oin had said.

"Oin wants to see us in the sick rooms _again_," he said bending over so only I would hear, "and he wants us to stay there overnight at least."

"No."

"Areen," he said with a heavy sigh, "you took a bad tumble and should be checked."

"Yes," I whispered fiercely, "but I'm not spending one more night in the sick room—not one more night—and that's _final!_"

"_Areen_."

"Please, Thorin, _please_. Remember when I told you how I spent months in the sick rooms? Please, no more, no more." I felt his hand move from my shoulder up under my hair to lay along the back of my neck.

"I understand," he said, "don't fret. We will work out something." He took my hand again only for Kili to cough.

"If you don't mind, uncle?" he said gallantly. Thorin let go at once, and Kili kissed my hand slowly and tucked it on his arm, giving my fingers a light squeeze.

"Oh, before I forget," I said and started shrugging off Thorin's robes, but he stopped me.

"No," he said, "you used your skirts to wrap my ribs, and I won't have you chilled now. Wear them until your maids can get you another gown."

"What? Oh, _oh_."

Without being obvious, he was letting me know I wasn't dressed appropriately. The fabric of my gown wasn't thin, but without my underskirts it would cling to my legs, and I wasn't going to give anyone another topic of conversation.

"Thank you," I said. "That's very considerate."

"So let's get you warmed up then," Kili said brightly. As we were heading out, I heard slight shiftings of feet, and I realized we had a large audience.

Turning to them, I said, "I cannot express how grateful I am for all you've done to save your king and me. It's a debt I can never repay, and Erebor is most fortunate to have dwarves of your skill and bravery." I curtsied and bowed my head as best I could in my revealing skirt and Thorin's heavy robes. The miners murmured in astonishment, and a chorus of "My lady" echoed off the walls.

"Well done," Kili whispered in my ear. Thorin then cleared his throat and all noise stopped instantly.

"I add my thanks as well," he said, "and while I know you only did your duty, I order that each of you take one week off at triple pay to rest and recuperate. Oin, were there any injuries?"

"None, Thorin."

"Indeed? I'm very proud of you all and further order that you be treated tonight to a feast in your honor."

A great whoop resounded, and we were buoyed by cheerful dwarves discussing how they were going to spend their money and drink enough ale to need a week to recover. I thought back to our last word game and wondered if Thorin was listening in on their conversation. A few smothered coughs led me to think he was.

We made an odd procession with Thorin leading the way out of the mines with Dwalin, Fili, and Balin by his side and Kili and me following behind wearing the king's royal robes. Members of the company joined us along the way, boasting in their work to help us make it out. Nori made it seem like he'd pulled away the largest boulders barehanded. Once we made it up and out, an explosion of sound met us in the Great Hall, and it seemed like the entire mountain shouted with joy and relief.

"You must have been frightened," Kili said after we passed through the general adulation.

"Yes, but Thorin got me through."

"Thorin now is it?"

"After this it has to be."

"I'm so sorry about Grude. I had no idea."

"Of course you didn't. He didn't make it out, did he? I felt a boot."

"No, he didn't," he said with some heat, "and he didn't deserve to."

"He was frightened of me."

"Of you?"

"Of the curse."

"If anything," Kili said with a sour turn, "you should be afraid of being here, lot of good it's done you."

"More than you know."

"Truly?" I could tell he was smiling, and I imagined his very handsome face lit with a happy glow. "Once you're feeling better, although I'm sure that Oin wants you to spend another night ..."

"Not a chance."

"I'd like to spend some time with you."

"That would be lovely but no outdoor picnics, visits to nude sculpture galleries, or trips to other off-limits mines."

He laughed loud and long, and others nearby wondered what was so funny after near death.

"How about the gardens?"

"Perfect."

* * *

Thorin looked over his shoulder to see Kili and Areen chatting happily.

_It is as it should be. It is as it ... should be._

"You're going to get a crick if you keep looking back like that," Balin said. "Is something wrong?"

"No."

"Well," Balin said, "I never thought I'd say this but being buried underground suits you."

"How so?"

"You seem ... chipper. How did the child fare?"

"She's Kili's age if not older," he said, his tone suddenly somber for such a joyous occasion. "You don't consider him a child, do you?" Balin cocked his head and took a long look at his solemn king.

"No, no, you're right, she's not. She most definitely is not."

* * *

**Sooo ... what shall we talk of now?**


	32. Chapter 32

**OK, can I tell you how frustrated I am? I rewrote the chapter after Painton gave me her excellent advice, and I saved it, but before I could post it somehow reverted to an earlier stage of editing, and I had to rewrite everything. Grrr, grrr. Please let me know of any mistakes. I know there were some, but I just can't see them anymore. Happy 4th to readers in the US! Please review!**

* * *

**Chapter 32**

"Tell me what I've missed," Thorin said while striding up to his chambers, his fingers already tugging at the laces of his tunic. Fili and Kili eyed each other, momentarily hesitant to tell him after such an ordeal, but after Thorin gestured impatiently, they rushed to fill him in.

"Orcs massacred three out of five caravans still on the road. The remaining two joined forces and at last word were just south of Lake-Town."

Thorin merely nodded, already figuring matters hadn't improved in five days.

"The plague?"

"Hundreds dead at the Iron Hills and spreading to surrounding settlements."

"Dain will hold out."

"What are your orders?" Fili asked.

"First, a bath," he said.

"Oin wants to see you and Areen."

"Later, and she can be treated in her room if need be."

"Should we tell her?"

Thorin stopped then and sighed, his head and shoulders slumping. The thought of heaping more on her after their ordeal left a sour taste in his mouth, and he reflexively swiped the side of his hand across his lips. She needed time to recover, and so did he though not for the same reasons. Something had happened in those five days that he needed time to unravel. Perplexing feelings and thoughts that needed answers. Most he could dismiss on the circumstances, but not all. Even now he felt it, yet he couldn't identify what it was. The closest he could come to it was a deep warmth, a _yielding_ even, but not in a weak way. In fact, the experience left him feeling more vital if anything. Perhaps it was just the natural response to a woman in trouble. That would rouse any dwarrow's heart, no, no … _sympathy_. No woman had ever needed him in such a way, so perhaps that's why he had trouble recognizing the feeling.

_She was frightened and needed my care. I'd have done the same for any woman._

He ignored the part of him that questioned that assertion.

"Yes. No doubt she'll want to … refresh herself, and then we'll go over the news with her. She'll be asking anyway. Her friends are never far from her thoughts."

* * *

The scent of finely milled soaps and hair rinses tickled my nose but were oh, so welcome. I stunk with a deep, stale stink that thickened the air around me, so I dunked my head and washed away every crust and mote of filth. Kitra had to help me lather my hair three times to get out all the dirt and dust. When she and Otha first saw me, they grabbed me away from Kili and hugged me so hard I was sure I left outlines of my body in dirt.

"Oh, Areen!" Otha had said. "Thank Mahal! How are you feeling? What do you need? Let's get you to the sick rooms straightaway."

"At once!" Kitra added. "We were so worried. Are you in pain anywhere?"

Thorin had stepped in then and suggested they take me to my chambers. He said that Oin could tend me there if need be.

"Are you _sure_ you shouldn't go to the sick rooms?" Otha asked after Kitra and I rinsed away the last bit of hair wash. "It was a terrible experience, and maybe you're more injured than you think."

"Truly, I'm well," I said, smiling at her tender heart. Mother couldn't have chosen better. "Thank you though." I took her hand and put it against my cheek. "I'm grateful, very grateful for your concern, and I'm sorry you worried so."

"No more trips to the mines," Kitra said firmly. I had to agree. There was too much above ground to keep me from ever wanting to venture down there again. The only thing it had in its favor was privacy, and I had had enough.

"Have you heard anything about our caravan?"

"Rumors only," Kitra said with an uneasy edge to her voice.

"Tell me."

"Nothing _official_, but rumors are that several caravans were attacked by orcs."

"Survivors?"

"We don't know."

"Were those the only caravans?"

"No, we heard there might be a couple of others, but …"

"One of those is ours, and they will make it."

They didn't bother to disguise their hesitation, but this was one time I needed them to step up.

"Otha, Kitra, they _will_ make it. Please let Slif know of Lord Vinn's favorite dishes, and Feron will want to tour the stables after Oin clears them."

"Yes, my lady," they said in unison, falling back into formalities at the tone of my voice.

"I wish I could stretch out though," I said. "I still feel confined." I imagined Thorin also scrubbing off our time together, and I squelched the thought of him in a pool of water. A _pool_ of water. Now there was an idea. A tub was all very well to clean in, but to relax I needed room to float.

"Are there public baths, Otha?" I asked. There must be. I didn't think every dwarf had a private washroom. Ah, to swim! That would be wonderful.

"I've heard so," she answered, "but the household staff showed us the ones set aside for royalty and guests. Yes, what you need is a large, open space."

"Lead on," and so I harnessed Sky, and we got ready to follow them down two flight of narrow stairs to a large room where they told me hot water was piped into a wide pool. It was a relief to be with Sky again, and she gamboled around, unable to stay still until we were ready to leave. She had licked me enough after my bath for me to need another washing, and I ruffled her ears and scratched her belly before hugging her hard.

"You must have been so frightened," Otha said as we made our way down. "I know I can't stand small spaces, but why were you with King Thorin? We heard Prince Kili and Lord Dwalin were also in the mine with a number of others."

I explained what Grude had done and that Thorin was the first one to reach me when the roof collapsed. Reaching deep into their vocabularies, they cursed Grude with great creativity then oohed when I said Thorin covered my body with his. Quite so, they said. Gallant and kingly, they said.

"And then what?" Kitra asked.

And _then_ what. I wasn't sure how to explain or if I even wanted to. However, their little questioning noises told me they were imagining horrible scenarios, so I plowed on, but it felt strange. Recounting it out loud seemed to change what had happened. What we did in the cave then seemed a matter of necessity and survival, but describing it now made it appear intimate. Suddenly, I felt awkward like I'd tattled something private to those who would never understand. The memory of his fingers on my face wasn't to be shared with anyone.

"So you _felt_ him?" Otha asked almost reverently. "He gave you his robes? Goodness. It just about killed us not telling you what he looked like, but we figured it would come out sooner or later. We were terrified, Areen, but knowing King Thorin was with you made it bearable."

"Yes, it did," Kitra said. "It was Mahal's blessing to have him there."

"How so?" Privately, I agreed, but I wondered why she thought so.

"Because he's the only one who wears fur robes that thick, so if it had been anyone else, you might both have died from exposure."

Very reasonable.

"Also, he's used to hardship and living by his wits, so he'd know what to do, and he'd be calm and supportive and take things in stride."

"Yes, yes, he was that and so much more."

After a pause, they wanted to know how we managed, and I shared what I could. I didn't want to alarm them since all ended well, so I skipped the part where we almost suffocated and focused instead on our discussions and word games. They had no trouble with the word "flatulence" and came up with a number of other intriguing combinations that had slipped my mind.

"I feel better now," Otha said. "We had imagined all sorts of terrible things," and she shared with me how hard the dwarves worked to get us out, and how the whole mountain seemed to stop breathing until we were rescued. I was touched by everyone's concern, and that warm feeling lasted all of three seconds until we turned the corner to the pool and heard a group of maids talking some distance away. They weren't troubling to lower their voices, and what I heard made me wince like I'd stubbed my toe.

"_Alone_ with the king for _five_ days."

"They were struggling to survive, Bina."

"Maybe he wouldn't make the first move, but she could have played little scared miss. I know _I_ would."

"Bina! Watch your mouth! You'll get us into trouble."

"I'm just saying what everyone's thinking. Alone with Thorin Oakenshield in the dark for five days? You can't tell me nothing happened. It's freezing, so you huddle under, mmm, his robes to stay warm. Pretty soon huddling turns to snuggling and snuggling to …. _What?_ Don't tell me you weren't thinking it."

I was about to shout our innocence when a louder and much more forceful voice did it for me.

"No, we weren't thinking it, and neither was anyone else, so shut your mouth."

"Oh, look who's putting on airs now!"

I didn't say a word and neither did Otha or Kitra. Even Sky seemed to have turned into a statue. I felt us all lean in to listen.

"Let me be clear. If you so much as whisper one word against our king or his integrity, I will challenge you with the weapon of your choice and leave you without your tongue. Do you understand or do you need a demonstation?

Now I was sure we weren't breathing because all the breathing was taking place down the hall. Big huffs through teeth, short puffs of rapid exhales, and gasps and pants nearly sucked up all the air in the vicinity.

"Just a bit of fun," this Bina said resentfully. "Didn't mean nothing by it."

"Yes, you do, and I'll not have it."

They moved away, and the last thing we heard was another maid wistfully hoping that she would be present when said tongue amputation occurred. I felt my face flame and my stomach twist in protest.

"Have you heard others talk like this?"

"No, not a word," Otha hastened to say, "but you know better than most how some try to take advantage of misfortune. Don't let it trouble you."

It was true. Since the world began there were those who enjoyed making the most of misery, and even Erebor had its pock-marked, foul-breathed few. Otha and Kitra said they would sniff out any gossip, and I knew they'd do better than Sky after one of her buried bones. I would be on the alert as well. I'd not embarrass Thorin after saving my life. Not for the world.

* * *

Thorin sent Fili and Kili on and said he'd meet with them later after he bathed. He acknowledged everyone's signs of respect and fervent well-wishes as he walked to his chambers where he knew a hot bath awaited. Although he was used to being on the road and bathing whenever water was available, he felt dirty in a different way. His sick sweat mixed with dirt and dust had stiffened locks of his hair, and he felt grit itching in his beard and lines of his face. Areen's wide smile on their rescue made up for the dirt that had turned her hair almost white, and he thought she looked remarkably well, all things considered. The remembrance curved his lips upward. He was proud of them, but his mood changed abruptly when he heard some dwarves walking ahead of him.

"So how do you think they managed?"

"Mahal was with them, that's for sure."

"Yes, but _how_ do you think they managed? Five days without heat, five days not able to move around. They must have been in pretty close quarters."

"What does it matter? They managed, and I for one am grateful."

"So am I. King Thorin's done well by us."

"But _how_ did they manage? Body heat. Catch on?"

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you deserved to be _flogged!_"

"Now, now, I'm not saying ..."

"Yes, you are, and you will hold your tongue or I will put you on report."

"I meant no harm."

The coward sniveled an insincere apology, but his companions didn't believe him and continued their criticism. Thorin stormed around the corner, but they had passed into a busy hall, and he couldn't pick out their voices. A chorus of "My lord" and "Praise Mahal" drowned out their conversation, and he was left fuming at bottom of the stairs to the family wing.

_There's always a few who try to profit, and I will exile him if I find him._

Areen's reputation, through no fault of her own, was now being bandied about, and it made him sick. He would have that dwarf whipped out of Erebor, and he tried to recall the tenor of his voice and anything distinguishing. A pang of guilt had him remembering the feel of her in his arms. It had seemed so right and natural then.

_Of course it was when the other choice was freezing to death. Fools. _Although he had always known the royal family was a topic of discussion, perhaps _the_ topic of discussion, he hoped it would pass as most things did. _She doesn't deserve more heartache. _If this gossip of the very few malcontents spread, he'd have to take action. Drastic action.

* * *

"I believe this is the one for the ladies," Kitra said. There was no one there, and I lifted my face to the heavy waves of steam. Ahhh, sheer luxury awaited, and I inflated my lungs as far as they would go. I could almost feel the moist air melting off the taint of the mine. I was clean from the bath but not refreshed. This was just what I needed. I took off my robe and held on to Otha's arm.

"Mind the step," she said, and I helped myself in. Instantly, I kicked my legs out and floated.

"This is fabulous!" I said while splashing around. I alternated between floating and swimming, sometimes sitting at the bottom of the pool and letting the serenity of heavy silence seep into my soul. It was fabulous until we heard footsteps, and then fabulous turned to frantic.

"Areen! Quickly!"

"Am I not supposed to be here?"

"I don't think the ladies of Erebor have such heavy feet."

"Quickly, quickly."

I had just gotten my robe back on and hastily tied when the door opened and most definitely dwarrow trooped in.

"I just need to stretch," Kili said. "Hours and hours hunched over rocks. I think you were probably more comfortable, Thorin."

"Perhaps from the way you describe it."

"Oh," Fili said stopping short. "We aren't alone."

Certain very surprised sounds came from the Durins, and certain very admiring sounds came from my side. I was surprised but not embarrassed since I was tucked safely in my robe and couldn't see them anyway.

"Fancy meeting you all here," I said. "It thought this was for the ladies."

They didn't say anything at first, and neither did Otha and Kitra, which led me to think that the three dwarves in front of us were wearing much less than usual.

"_Naked?_"

"_Towels_," Kitra said out of the side of her mouth. "This is one moment where I'd give just about anything for you to see."

"Burned on my eyes and in my memory—forever," Otha added in a low voice.

"Actually," Kili said with a note of laughter, "it was, but Della can't use the baths in her state, and our side is being repaired. Of course, we should have anticipated this."

His cheeky tone that had me giggling until Thorin spoke up.

"We should leave. Kili, Fili."

"Don't on my account," I couldn't help saying. "It's not as if I can _see_ you." A little dig at their attire or lack thereof was all in good fun.

"Yes, but we can see you!" Kili said, not at all perturbed.

"A little too much," Thorin added under his breath. Maybe he didn't mean for anyone to hear, but I did, and whipped around.

"Is it open?" I hissed. Otha tugged the collar more closely around my neck and tightened the sash.

"Not indecent."

"Oh, _Mahal,_" and my superior smirk plopped into the pool and sank to the bottom. They always seemed to have the upper hand. One day though, one day ...

"We could enjoy the baths _together_, Areen," Kili said a tad suggestively. I imagined him wagging his brows. A quick pap on what was almost certainly his head was followed by a yelp.

"Watch your mouth," Thorin said, ending with a testy harrumph. "We'd best go."

"No, no," I rushed to say. They had obviously come for the same reason, and I'd not deny them their well-deserved opportunity to relax. "I'm done. Um, here is probably not the best place to ask, but have you had any word on my friends?"

"Not precisely, but several caravans were attacked."

"Survivors?" I forced myself to sound firm.

"No."

I closed my eyes at the confirmation and felt tears for the tragic victims, but they weren't my people. I wouldn't believe it.

"Areen," Thorin said, "I'm very sorry to say it, but they're likely among the dead."

"No."

"Areen, orcs are already hunting the other two. You must prepare yourself."

"No, they'll make it."

"The odds are …"

"Thorin," I said making myself as tall as I could, "you asked me to have faith in your people even though the odds were against us."

"Yes," he said catching on.

"So I'm asking you now to have faith in mine," I said with a lift of my chin. I had no doubt they'd survive. None. Really none. I had been afraid for them, but I wasn't now. He might have to house them elsewhere, but they wouldn't die on the road, not at the hands of filthy orcs. They hadn't fought for so hard and so long for justice to be the victims of such injustice. They would make it. They would. At that moment, my fluffy bath robe felt like royal raiment.

"Very well," he replied, most willing to concede. Kili and Fili seconded at once and offered all manner of help, but Thorin was quiet. My friends filled his silence.

"That smile," Otha whispered. "I'd melt if someone smiled at me that way."

"Oh, my," Kitra said at the same time. I sensed him smiling at me and grinned in return. We had just lived through what many and maybe most thought we wouldn't, and now we would extend our triumph to include my people. The gossip about us faded to nothing. It didn't matter compared to what we had been through and what was still to come.

"Fili, Kili," he said crisp and precise. "I want you to make preparations for their arrival. I want one hundred of our best warriors on alert and archers at the ready. Send out the ravens again to find out where they are presently. We won't have them murdered in front of our gates. Now we must go."

"Don't leave on my account. Please. You need this just as much as I did. Thorin?"

"Yes, Areen?" His voice turned soft, and he came closer and took my hand after I held it out.

"Thank you again," I said quietly squeezing his palm. He returned it with a little shake. "Truly, thank you for earlier and now for this."

He paused, still holding my hand before cupping it with his other. He inhaled once or twice, trying it seemed to find the right words.

"Such an arduous experience can _change_ people," he said, "never to be the same. I'd regret this changing you in any way or coming back to haunt you."

"Hardly, although this might," I said gesturing around the room. He dropped my hand.

"How so?"

"I might have nightmares about water ogres in my bath."

After a surprised grunt, he threw back his head and guffawed. I could tell because his laughter went up instead of out. Kili and Fili joined in with confused chuckles, and I giggled, knowing all was well. He had a lovely laugh, as full and rich as his speaking voice. I always wondered how some could talk well enough only to laugh in wheezes, honks, nose whistles, and any number of other bizarre noises. I was strangely glad that Thorin didn't laugh through his nose. It wouldn't have lowered my opinion of him, but it was nice to keep the impression of the handsome and noble king without any off-putting features.

"Rest for the remainder of the day, Areen," he said, his good humor restored. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, and sweet dreams," Kili added, "_very_ sweet dreams. _I_ look forward to seeing _you_ tomorrow."

I couldn't stand it any longer. _Flirt_.

"So is this the _real_ you?"

"I'll let you figure it out," he said, and he came closer with the teasing sounds people made before they're about to tickle someone. I shook my head in mock disapproval and stepped back, but I didn't account for the wet floor, and I slipped and made an utter fool of myself flapping like a chick not ready to leave the nest.

"Got you!" he said, and I felt bare, tautly muscled arms encircle me and pull me against a hard chest. Archer. Figured. I was getting an education in Durin musculature. "Up you go."

I called for Sky and she came after stopping to lick Kili.

"How did you get her to do that? She was trained to wait for permission."

"She has _excellent_ taste."

"In that she prefers beef loin to ribs," Fili muttered.

"Just trying to be a good host," Kili said with self-satisfied air. "She knows who's worthy, unlike uncle who still isn't up to par."

"I wouldn't say that," I said in his defense. "After saving my life I'd say he's _very_ up to par."

I heard the sound of triumph behind Kili and couldn't help laughing. They were so dear—all of them.

The rest of the day was a perfect blend of relaxation and wonderful munchies Slif kept sending up. Tasty treats on platters that tested the limit of his experience and creativity. It was divine. I wondered if Thorin got the same treatment, but probably not. He was too busy preparing for the arrival of my people. It was impossible to say how relieved and overjoyed I was that he so readily agreed to my wishes. Once I thought that I couldn't imagine him as dwarf like any other, and I still believed that, but for a different reason now. He was ... wonderful, and I had to laugh that I thought so differently at first.

That night I had a dream about my romantic hero. It was the same as always only his face was obscured. I was frustrated that I couldn't focus on him because his features kept changing from one moment to the next. Strange, but morning came soon enough along with surprise visitors.

"Bofur! Bifur! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We want to apologize," Bofur said with a sad slowness to his words. Bifur grunted behind him. "We should never have taken you to the mines. If not for us ..."

"No, no, now don't blame yourself. Grude and only Grude was to blame. I'm sure Thorin thinks the same. Now please, walk with me to breakfast. I'd like to spend time with you both."

Bifur tried to talk to me, but I couldn't understand him and felt terrible.

"Do you know Iglishmek?" Bofur asked after several minutes of back and forth.

"Only a few of the simplest signs. It's hard since I can't see the hand motions."

"Well, Areen, we have _plenty_ of time to teach you!"

Bifur grunted then, took my hands, and cupped them into a bowl. Very slowly and carefully, he signed something. I felt him do it, but I still couldn't recognize it.

"He's saying thank you," Bofur said with a pat on my arm. "He appreciates you're willing to learn. Don't lose heart. We'll get started at breakfast."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with eating."

They walked me downstairs, but before we reached the main atrium bells started ringing, and the hallways filled with scurrying dwarves, many sounding heavily armored. We stopped in surprise.

"What's going on?"

"I have an inkling, lass, but let's find out for sure."

Further down the hallway I heard Thorin, Kili, and Fili shouting orders and directing squadrons of dwarves.

"They're heading for the battlements, Areen. I think your friends have been spotted."

Taking my hand, he pulled me forward and we went at a run.

* * *

The ravens reported riders approaching at a gallop with orcs nipping at their heels. Wounded were either holding onto riders on the back or lying in wagons. They were dwarves without a doubt and looked like they had been riding hard for some time. The ponies looked ready to drop but galloped on, sustained by fear alone.

"Orlin," Thorin said to a heavily built dwarf in riding armor, "ready the goats. Left and right flanks take on the orcs. I want the center section to provide escort. Their lives are depending on you."

"You can count on us, my lord."

"I know I can," and with those words, he gripped Orlin's shoulder, stared into his eyes, and nodded. The dwarf puffed out his chest in response and bowed low before beckoning his team forward.

"All right, lads, let's pound those bastards into the ground!" With a mighty cheer they bustled to their mounts. Thorin cocked his head to listen to their cheers and support of each other and smiled. If he had to overhear anything, it should sound like that. Encouragement. Support. Conviction. That other talk, that filth about Areen was a cancer he'd eradicate by any means necessary. _Any_ means.

"Kili, are the archers ready?"

"Already up on the battlements with their long bows."

"Good. It seems Areen was right. Now let's get them in safely."

"We will."

Thorin breathed deeply and nodded at the preparations they had made. With a fervor that surprised him, he wanted Areen's people to make it, and he would ride out himself to make sure of it. For her sake, not theirs. He had made a promise and would keep it. It was a matter of honor, nothing more.


	33. Chapter 33

**Here's another, more action-packed chapter. First off, many thanks to Painton who keeps me in line when I veer off into melodramatic drivel. Also, thanks mucho bunches for your reviews! Thank you guests for your reviews, and that brings up a question. Would you like personalized responses at the end of each chapter? I see other writers doing that. Also, thanks Sylvan for your enthusiastic review. Lastly, dear Aranel, don't despair. There's much to look forward to.**

* * *

**Chapter 33**

We ran up a narrow flight of stairs into the open, and I smelled sharp sweat on the warm breeze. The clanking and murmuring indicated many dwarves up on the ramparts. When I got to the top, I saw blue sky and numerous, bulky shapes moving but not much more than that. Some of the shapes were talking about my friends' chances. Others were boasting of their own skill as fighters and recounting stories that by others' reactions had been told many times before. A few were checking their weapons and jockeying for better spaces along the wall.

"What's happening? Do you see them?"

"Kili and his archers are here with Thorin and Fili. Wait here. I'll have a look-see."

He wasn't gone for long.

"The first ravens back told Thorin the caravan is approaching Dale and that other ravens will raise the alarm. It won't be long now."

Our moment was coming, and I knew they'd make it. Even so, memories of the incident with Frerin flooded my thoughts, and sweat beaded my upper lip. I wiped it away then wiped my palms on my skirt. It was sticky, clammy sweat. I was reminded of Thorin in the cave.

"Lass? Areen, are you well? You're looking a mite peaked."

It _wasn't_ shock, and I _wouldn't_ faint. They were memories, no more. I kept telling myself that, but myself wasn't so easily assuaged and argued its case. I felt sweat building under my arms.

His comment must have carried on the breeze because hurried footsteps came toward us before long.

"Areen? What's wrong?" Kili asked. "You're shaking." He put his arm around my waist and guided me back to his position. "We're getting everything ready. Can you see them assembling below? Your friends won't be alone. We have thirty of our finest archers here." Several close to us preened and passed Kili's compliment down the line.

"I know, but that's not it."

"What then?"

I listened to the noises of preparation in the distance, and it only sharpened the memory. I heard the clang of steel, Frerin's terrified cry in my head, and felt my own gut-twisting fear cramping my stomach. I pressed my fist against it. "Areen, you're ill. Come, we must get you some help." He snapped his fingers, and a guard stepped up. "The princess needs to see Oin."

He took my fingers, put his hand on my back, and handed me to the guard like one leading someone old and infirm. It was humiliating after my confident proclamation in my fluffy bath robe, but this wasn't about what was going to happen. It was about what already had, and I thought I'd done so well in shaking it off. Going down to Oin was a waste of time on all our accounts though, but I blessed Kili for his steadfastness—a rare commodity to be sure.

"It's already passing," I said. He stopped then and said nothing, probably looking me over to make sure I had told the truth. I had. Myself and I had had a hurried but fruitful discussion. I told her that if she didn't cease this hysteria at once, we would sit out the battle amid Oin's noxious remedies. She promptly apologized for the fuss.

"Very well." He had the same supportive stillness as his uncle. He rubbed one shoulder and waited while I took a deep, slow breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Only one was needed, and then I smiled and nodded.

"I'm not afraid, Kili."

"I know. I know you aren't." Pounding footsteps interrupted our careful calm.

"What is _this?_" It was Thorin as Commanding General. Kili turned around while keeping one arm on my shoulder. Thorin sucked in his breath. "Areen, you're pale." Now it was Concerned Friend. It was amazing how fast his tone could change and yet still be appropriate to the situation. Mine always headed down the same spillway of Universal Spontaneous Tone when I was surprised or on the spot. It was always after—sometimes not long after but still after—that I realized I should have pulled the lever to Thoughtful Consideration or Keep Mouth Shut Until Able to Answer With A Civil Tongue.

"I'm well, Thorin. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," Kili said.

After a pause, I realized they were communicating without words, and I rolled my eyes and huffed, but I wasn't upset.

"This is as rude as whispering behind your hands, you know." I grinned, and they cleared their throats sheepishly.

"It was a momentary thing," I said. "I'm sorry to have troubled anyone. Forgive me."

"You will let us know if you feel unwell again," Thorin said as a conclusion to whatever conversation he wasn't going to share.

"It's hard waiting, I know," Kili added, and with that he patted my arm and stepped away. I heard him gather his archers and prepare them for what they could expect. With a clear, confident voice, he outlined his strategy and had them check and recheck their equipment. My friends were in good hands.

"It's not cowardice to worry," Thorin said, and he settled his broad hand on my shoulder. The side of his thumb swept up and down my collarbone.

"Thank you, but it wasn't worry for my friends."

"No?"

He moved in so close then that I instinctively put my hand up to stop him. He was wearing chainmail, and my fingers landed on the cross-guard of his sword. It shifted in its scabbard, and he yanked it back.

"Careful." He grabbed my hand and rubbed my fingertips. "I don't want you cutting yourself. Orcrist is sharp."

Confused, I felt him without self-consciousness. Being in a cave and sharing intimacies, and at that point I couldn't call it anything else, had the tendency to obliterate personal space. He must have agreed because he made no move to stop me.

"Why are you armed? I thought you were commanding from up here. Bofur said you were heading to the battlements." Did he have to ride out for _everything?_

With his usual clarity, he made another grunt of surprise.

"Don't you want me to help your friends?"

Well, _of course_, I did. Just from somewhere behind thick walls. What good was a mountain fortress anyway if dwarves were always running outside? Even so, I knew better. If there was a fight anywhere within fighting distance, he'd be in the middle of it. Maybe it wasn't necessary for him to go, but he would anyway. It was in his bones. I had heard what had happened during his bout with gold sickness, but only a sickness that devastating would keep him from fighting. Now he and Fili were going to fight for people they didn't know. _My_ people. I almost hit the wall in frustration. _I_ wanted to be out there. I was reconciled to my blindness in most things, but I hated not being able to protect those I loved, and moments like this were almost unendurable.

"You know I do, but I feel helpless just standing here. I wish _I_ could fight. They're _my_ people after all._"_

He laughed then, a soft and even contented laugh—one of understanding. More than most he knew how I felt.

"Did you have any skill before you went blind?"

"I was young remember, but I learned a little about archery and shooting from the saddle. I was never as good as my friends though. I'm sure you knew a lot more at that age."

He didn't get to answer.

"Here they come!" Fili shouted.

* * *

The dwarves looked out over the plain to Dale and saw a flock of ravens flying with all speed toward Erebor. That could only mean the caravan wasn't far behind.

"Ready the goats!" Thorin shouted, and the side gates opened. He felt Areen's hand slip into his and turned to see her biting her lip and trying to smile bravely at the same time. She held his hand with both of hers.

"Don't do anything stupid, you hear me?" She clutched his arm like she was trying to keep him there, and his expression softened at her concern. Still, even now his mount was waiting. His and Fili's.

"I need to go, Areen. We need to go." He turned and looked for his eldest sister-son. "Fili! It's time."

She tugged on his arm again, and this time her look was steely. Whatever had ailed her was replaced by fierce anger, an anger that reminded him of their infamous meeting in the garden. Throwing her shoulders back and stiffening her back, she tried to face him but missed. He cleared his throat, and her head swiveled.

"I want you back safe," she said, now almost appearing to look him in the eye. "_All_ of you. Kill the bastards, but _don't _do anything stupid and don't let Fili either."

He squeezed her hand and made to leave, but she yanked on his arm. "I'm not asking you to hold back. You wouldn't anyway, but promise to take care."

"Areen …"

"_Promise_."

Her expression was determined, even rebellious, and he felt that same warmth from the cave. It gathered heat in his gut as he watched her hold him back. She had no authority to make such a demand and, in fact, was quite out of bounds and yet not. He couldn't remember the last time someone thought about him that way, and the heat set something aflame.

"I promise."

In response, she closed her eyes, and her tense shoulders sagged. A small, soft smile had him reaching for her now serene face. Tentative fingers grazed her chin before he caught himself and clenched his hand behind his back.

"Bofur, Bifur, keep her with you. Fili, with me. We'll be back soon with your friends, Areen."

The dwarves shifted uneasily while they waited, and everyone felt the tension seeping through their muscles, battle nerves taking hold. Aimless talk turned to low growls of bloodlust and anger. It was a tense time waiting, but soon enough the first ponies rounded the base of Dale at the far end, and they heard muffled pounding of hooves in the distance. In front was the Lord of the Grey Mountains, racing far ahead on the largest and freshest pony. Mutters of disdain and contempt rippled through the ranks, but those nearest Areen withheld the words pressing against their lips out of respect. Bofur was momentarily speechless at her father's cowardice, but Bifur spewed out a series of inarticulate sounds. After he found his voice though, Bofur spluttered his disgust in barroom idioms while she turned her head back and forth to catch every word. Her excited anticipation faded to resignation.

"Let me guess, Bofur," she said quietly and without anger. "Father's out in front, isn't he?"

"Yes," he replied, checking once again over the side, hoping he was wrong, "he is, aye. Sorry for my language."

"Nothing I haven't heard before where he's concerned. Left my people behind, did he?"

"'Fraid so, lass."

She was about to say something else when another, greater wave of murmurings reached her ears, and her whole face transformed into thrilled delight.

"They see them now? Bofur, tell me _everything!_"

He leaned far out to see the drama unfold before them.

"Behind your father is a cloud of dust. They're hauling as fast as they can, for sure as there's squirrels to nuts, there's orcs behind'em."

"You don't need to share _everything_," Dori called out as he and the rest of the company trooped up the stairs. "Just the encouraging news."

"If she could see, she'd call it as I did."

"True," Gloin said.

"Stay to the side," Kili commanded from far down the line. "I want the archers to have a clear view. Oin are the healers ready?"

"Everything's prepared."

"And all are volunteers? Thorin didn't want anyone compelled."

"They know the risk and are agreed."

"Good. Quarantine measures?"

"All in place as Thorin ordered," Balin replied. "So where are we at?"

Pushing along the wall, the company edged in while Bofur kept up a steady commentary.

"Well then," he said, rubbing his hands together, "the dust cloud is coming closer, and your, ah, father—keep your comments _clean _back there—your father has about, er, five-hundred paces on everyone else. His, um, guards—keep'em _clean_, I said—are behind him. Ah, what now?" He shielded his eyes against the strong sun. "I'm seeing two, no, three wagons. Yep, three with riders around them. Maybe wounded in those wagons. Hard to tell from this distance. Mahal, help them. I don't know how those ponies are still moving."

As the caravan and its pursuers raced across the plain, those on the wall started hearing the sharp grunts of overworked ponies. After running for who knows how long and how far, they were clearly coming to the end of their endurance and wouldn't last much longer. The dwarves looking over the battlements watched the goats head out and split into three columns. Thorin and Fili were at the front of the left and right flanks with Orlin in the center.

"Thorin and Fili are leading the charge, Areen," Bofur said. She nodded, and he stopped so they could listen to the war cries and shouts of the dwarves heading toward the caravan. She heard Thorin call out to Orlin to hold center ground so he and Fili could attack from the sides. Wrapping her arms around her shoulders, she took a deep breath and jumped when Bofur took her aside by the elbow. "I heard what you said to Thorin, and it's heartening to have someone thinking about him. There's not many he'd make promises to either."

"He does for Della," she replied.

"Della's a rare one, aye, but then again Della's never asked him for anything he wouldn't already give."

The pounding grew louder, and those along the wall watched the goats gallop toward the menacing howls and noise behind the caravan. It was hard to see, but there were at least fifty orc riders, much more than usual yet maybe all that remained in that part of the world.

"They want the medicine," Balin said. "Maybe the fever's hit them hard."

"I hope so," Dwalin said.

Nori grunted his agreement. There was no other reason why orcs would chase down the caravan. They had eaten their grisly fill, and now they wanted protection against the fever that would further decimate their ranks and perhaps wipe them out forever.

"That's their survival right there," Kili called over from his place. "Wagon loads of medicine and healing herbs. Even if they make off with a few packs and run, they'd be the better for it and us the worse."

The fierce goats lowered their heads, gained speed, and thundered down the plain. The long-awaited confrontation was at hand, and everyone waited to see the outcome.

"Now what, Bofur?" Areen asked as she tugged on his sleeve. He didn't answer at first as he tried to take in and make sense of all the commotion.

"Most of the riders are protecting the wagons and the wounded. Bless me! That was a close one."

"What was? What was?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, lass, but one of the riders escaped being a warg snack by inches."

"_Bofur!_" Dori said disapprovingly. The stout dwarf pulled a face and motioned for him to go easy, but Areen turned around and shook her head.

"It's all right, Dori, though you're a love to protect me, but I want to know the good and the bad."

"Back to it then," Bofur said. "What in Durin's name? There are three archers in the back covering the rear and picking off orcs as they try to slip by while others shoot from the wagons. Your people have pluck, Areen." He raised his voice. "Fine archers wouldn't you say, Kili?"

"Very fine," he called back, and his crew agreed.

"OI!" Bofur yelled after a particularly close call. "Watch it! Are ya daft? You can't fight without _arms_, ya dolt!"

After a moment of silence, stifled chuckles reached our ears.

"Pay attention!" Kili called out. "Bofur, keep it _quiet_." With an oath, Bifur slapped his brother's hat off.

"Sorry," Bofur said after a meek chuckle, "I got a wee bit carried away. Now then, the three in the back seem to be calling out positions and taking turns hitting targets. Ooo, fine shot, aye. Ah, good parry by Thorin. That orc's in pieces. Two at once by Fili!"

In the last wagon, a dwarf used a round, black object with a two-fisted grip to hit orcs venturing too close. The dwarves crowding the battlements spied Lord Boron fighting beside him well enough with two axes. It was clear he hadn't seen much actual fighting since his motions were that of rote training, but his skill was adequate to the occasion. On the other side of the wagon, another dwarf with white hair and a long, white beard fought with the expertise of a highly experienced and inventive warrior, and any orcs who pushed in promptly lost their heads to the dirt. Erebor's dwarves rose on their tiptoes to see what was happening, and shocked exclamations were heard from one end to the other. Kili ordered his archers to stay in position.

"Are you all seeing this?" Nori asked in disbelief. "The three holding up the rear. They're riding _backwards_."

The dwarves blinked and took a second look, but Nori was right. The riders in the rear were riding backwards in the saddle to face their pursuers and shoot them when they got too close to the wagons. It was a jaw-dropping feat of horsemanship.

"My compliments to the horse trainer," Dori said. "They're not using reins, are they?"

"Might be Feron," Nori whispered to his brothers, nodding at the largest dwarf, "if Sky and Summer are anything to go by."

"_The_ Feron?" Ori said after checking to see if Kili could hear them.

Just then a particularly vicious warg with a missing ear broke through the lines and went after another wagon. Catching an ax from his companion, the largest of the three riders did an improbable swing in the saddle to face forward without his pony breaking stride. Nori let out a low whistle.

"Have you ever seen anything like that?"

The others shook their heads, too caught up in the moment to answer. The warg was felled by an ax in the throat, and the rider dropped back to rejoin his comrades. Another turn in the saddle had him facing backwards again, and the three continued shouting directions and instructions, swinging back and forth to cut off the approach of the last of the orc pack. In the front Erebor's warriors were sweeping through the orcs, breaking their formation, and creating a safe corridor.

"Bofur! What's happening?" She tugged at his sleeve, but he couldn't answer until Bifur hit him in the back.

"I've never seen the like," he said finally in awed reverence. "Three are riding backwards."

Her face went blank. Bifur was the first to notice and tugged on her arm, but she pushed him away.

"Three riders? Bofur, are you sure? _Answer_ me! Are you sure there are _three?_"

"Yes," Balin said. "What does that mean?"

She waved the question away at first, her excitement growing to where she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

"It may mean Uncle Vinn brought his family. They are the best riders in the Grey Mountains. The largest would be Feron. Do you see him?"

"You can hardly miss him," Nori said before turning around and making a sour face at the rest.

"Now, Nori, be nice," Dori said. The others held their tongues, but their expressions ranged from frank admiration to distrustful dislike. "He's her friend and will be our guest."

"Not for too long, I hope," Nori returned. "Ow! _Ori!_."

Bofur looked over at Areen, but she didn't seem to hear.

"Now I know this sounds strange," she said, "but is there someone using something round and black? Something that looks like a ... frying pan?"

None of them knew how to answer her until Ori chanced another glance and saw the dwarf with the black object. He had just smacked an orc in the face after Lord Boron missed a swing.

"There's a dwarf wielding something like that with a long handle."

"Oh, Mahal, Sella too. They've _all_ come. It _has_ to be them!"

For his part, Kili was lost in wonder and could only watch in amazement from his place further down the wall. By that time it seemed the skirmish would be settled out of range of his archers, but they stood at the ready nonetheless. His admiration for the fighters in the rear increased with every perfectly executed strategy and deft shot at nigh impossible angles. Awareness grew that one of them must be Feron, and it snapped him out of his trance. While he was more impressed by Areen's friend than he could express, he was abruptly reminded that this fabled friend was real and had come for her. That wouldn't do. Not until he had his chance. He felt a stiffening of his resolve to ask her to stay and figured her friend would have to spend at least three days in quarantine with the others. Three days to make his wishes known. He was sure now he felt something right and _important_, and he wanted to make sure what it was without interference. Three days. Three days was enough time, he was sure.

Looking over the side again, he saw that the probable Feron had left the other two to pursue a riderless warg. The goats galloped in to engage the last of the orcs, but not before the loathsome creatures launched a last volley of arrows. All missed their targets, all but the probable Feron, and two arrows struck him in the shoulder. He rocked in the saddle and pitched forward. His companions came up alongside at once and stayed with him until they could pull him off his pony. From where he stood, Bofur whistled at their bravura display. He was pulled from his mount at full gallop. Working together, his comrades maneuvered him to one of the wagons where the tall dwarf with white hair was waiting to take him. All were moving at full speed, none slowing down at any time.

"Lord Vinn," Dwalin said, nodding at the tall dwarf. Balin pursed his lips.

"Appears so."

"His son then." Dwalin asked, pointing to the injured dwarf in the wagon. The goats by now had completely surrounded the caravan, and they slowed everyone down to move at a safer pace to a far gate on one side. Two of the wagons had broken wheels, and dwarves stopped to transfer supplies. Six riders were slumped on their mounts, and nine ponies were limping badly, but all had survived. A smattering of orcs was seen fleeing, and the rest lay haphazardly on the ground. They would be burned later.

"I would think so." Balin said in a neutral tone. "Doesn't look too serious." He looked over to see Bofur explaining what had happened to Areen. She had her hands over her mouth.

"It appears Feron caught two arrows in the shoulder." She gasped, and he took her by the shoulders. "It doesn't look bad, lass. He'll be all right, and all are safe and headed to where they can be cared for. They made it, Areen, they made it, and Thorin kept his promise."

Her face crumpled then, and she sobbed out all the tears she had held in since she first feared for their safety. She was confident they would make it, but it was a trial nonetheless, and none of them faulted her for her reaction. He gave her soft hug before releasing her to Ori who gave her a kiss on each cheek.

"That's from Della and Frerin who send their love."

Kili picked her up and spun her around laughing, and her sobs turned to noisy gulps and the beginnings of joy.

"If all goes as well as it has," he said, "they'll be released in three days. You'll see them soon."

_Three days_, they all thought, and from there their imaginings took them in different directions. _Three days._

They turned and walked back with the other dwarves to make preparations to receive survivors. Areen chatted happily with Bofur and Kili, her relief and excitement making the others smile indulgently.

"You know, brother," Balin began, "they're stuck here."

"What do you mean?" Dwalin asked. "Thorin won't hold them, and Areen's father can crawl back under his rock when our business is finished."

"I mean that Feron and Lord Vinn can't go to the Iron Hills now, can they? Not with the fever there. They wouldn't take her. Besides, no one will travel with all doors closed to them. It would be foolhardy."

As Balin spoke, a very uncomfortable vision of future possibilities began unfolding in Dwalin's mind. They might just be playing host to Areen's people for weeks to come. He closed his eyes and shook his head, almost in pain. Feron and Kili in close quarters for weeks? Mahal, what good could possibly come out of that?

* * *

**Good Golly, Miss Molly, and now there are three. May you live in interesting times, I believe the Chinese proverb goes, so let's see how the Vinns and Durins do under the same roof. Please review, and I'll take suggestions for what you think should happen next!**


	34. Chapter 34

**Welcome to King Thorin's invited guests, the Vinn family and friends! My chapters seem to be getting longer and longer, but I thought they deserved more than a hello. I'm also honoring a few requests for Fili Durin family time. Cheers!**

* * *

**Chapter 34**

Della expected Fili back shortly. So many warriors had been put on alert it was unlikely harm would come to her beloved husband, and surely no orc would dare come within sight of Erebor after what had happened at the picnic? Fili would be back soon. Yes, he would. It would be a show of strength and nothing more. That was what she told herself at least.

_Frerin will take his nap, and I will try to rest. By the time he wakes up, it will all be over._

She stroked her rounding belly and called Frerin over, patting the place on the bed where he liked to curl up. She was much better at convincing him to nap when she said he could sleep in the "big bed." It made him feel more grown up, but one look at his face told her he wouldn't nap today.

Della didn't tell him where Fili was, but the little prince understood more than he could say and knew his father was out battling those horrible, smelly monsters with sharp teeth who rode on huge wolves. He had heard the bells ringing throughout the mountain, calling warriors to arms and others to make defensive preparations. His wide, round eyes blinked rapidly, and his lips quivered before he ran crying into her arms. It took all her energy to soothe her terrified son, and she held him in her arms while he sobbed out his fears.

"They gonna _eat_ Papa!"

His face was red and sweaty, and Della kept blotting his tears and runny nose. Picking him up, she snuggled him against her belly where he found some comfort patting her stomach and listening for noises from his brother or sister.

"No, my darling, of course not."

"They said."

"Who said, my dearest?"

Frerin's brief calm dissolved and between many tears told her as best he could what two guards had said several days after the disastrous picnic. Della gasped, horrified he had heard such things. That it was true was beside the point. It took all her strength to stay calm, and she willed herself into her soothing, mother face.

"No, no, sweetheart. Papa will win like always, and he's not alone. Everyone is fighting with him, including Grandpa Thorin. They'll be back soon, you'll see. Remember what happened after the picnic? He came back safe and sound then, and he'll do the same today."

"Pincess Reen too?"

Della was surprised to hear his concern for Areen, even above Thorin, but then again, Thorin was an almost godlike figure to the youngest prince, and his great uncle and nearly grandfather getting hurt wasn't possible in his world. In contrast, what had happened to him had happened to Areen. He had heard her cries and seen her blood. Though he didn't have the words to explain, he viewed her as a kindred spirit and thought she would be just as scared as he was by the battle. Where was she? Did she fall again? Alone? Hurt? He tugged at his mother's sleeve.

"Pincess Reen too?"

"Princess Areen isn't fighting, darling. She's safe in Erebor."

That mollified him for a short time before he started crying over his father again.

"Now remember what I said," Della said while stroking his thick waves and soft cheeks. "Papa is a great warrior, and he'll come back."

Leaning back against her arm, Frerin squinted at her face to gauge her truthfulness, and she gave him a little nod and wink. He kept his eye on her one more moment before he sighed and settled in. He wouldn't fall asleep, oh no, not while papa was out, but Della hoped he'd not be a handful today. As the days progressed, she depended on that nap almost as much as he did, but she'd get none today, and she sighed, hoping that at least she might close her eyes as he snuggled against her playing with his Fili doll and pretending he was moving down orcs with ease. That is, if she could still her active imagination. Fili had been gone for a long time, too long for a show of strength only. He was fighting; they were all fighting.

She picked up a cup of water in her shaky hand and tried to bring it to her mouth without spilling. A few cool sips eased her anxiety for the time it took to swallow them, but she put down the cup too hard on the night table. A slop of water wet the corner of a pillow.

"Mama?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Mama just spilled a little is all."

She kept her smile in place for as long as Frerin watched but bit her lip and looked away once his attention returned to his mock battle. As confident as she was in Fili's skill, she also knew it would only take one arrow, one fall, or one slash of a sword to send her beloved husband to the Halls of Mandos, so it was with tearful relief that she heard him coming down their hall. More than once she put her hand on her chest to quiet her breathing. She told Frerin to stay put until she had seen to Fili and tried to walk at a sedate pace to the door.

"You'll see papa once he cleans up, Frerin." He opened his mouth to protest, but she quelled his budding rebellion with a raised finger and stern look. "He'll come in as soon as may be, sweetheart, but after he's out of his armor. You don't want to see papa all sweaty and dirty?" She closed the door before he could answer. With a deep breath she turned to face her husband who stood there disheveled but unharmed.

"My love, you weren't worried, were you?" Fili crossed the room and cupped her cheeks. "You're pale."

She tried to laugh it off, but he knew better and kissed her quickly.

"Our newest son's setting you off, isn't he?" he asked to give her an excuse. She took it.

"Yes, I feel her worry. She wants her papa home safe so she can meet him."

"She?"

"Of course."

"Maybe twins then. It's possible."

After a last, shaky breath, Della released her anxiety, and they laughed together. He held out his arms, so she could help him out of his armor. The heir of Durin had a few scrapes but nothing serious.

"Thorin?"

"Not a scratch," Fili said. "Mahal spared him. It was bad enough he went out with broken ribs."

"Did he _have_ to ride out?" Fili gave her a look, and she rolled her eyes. "No, of course not, but he would anyway."

"You know he would, Della. He'll defend his kingdom and those under his protection until his dying day."

"Even with broken ribs, a head injury, and after being buried alive for five days?" She tugged on the laces of his arm guards and tried to ignore several gouges in the metal. Erebor had armor bearers who would unstrap Fili's armor, but Della considered it her duty and, besides, he couldn't hide anything from her that way. If she trusted his words, every battle was a scuffle, nothing more. She looked lower and saw a deep dent in the armor covering his boot. Pressing her lips together, she soldiered on in her contribution to the war effort. If she had a lot of choice words to say, she wouldn't say them because as much as she feared for Fili, she was that proud of him too. "He takes too much on himself."

"When has he not?"

An excited squeal in the next chamber interrupted their conversation, and Frerin squeezed through the heavy door with determined grunts. Once he was free, he jumped and down and did a little dance, unable to contain his excitement and relief.

"Papa!"

Clad in a nightshirt that was a miniature of his father's, Frerin ran as fast as his plump feet could carry him and rammed into Fili's legs.

"Papa!"

Still half-clad in armor, Fili kneeled and opened his arms wide to scoop up his ecstatic son.

"Papa!"

Frerin wrapped his chubby arms around Fili's neck, linking his fingers to hang on. He clung to his father like a barnacle and scrabbled to get his legs up and around Fili's waist.

"Upsy daisy," Fili said, hefting Frerin and smiling at Della over his shoulder. "Was he much worried?" he asked in a softer voice. Della dithered before whispering her answer.

"At first, but he calmed down eventually. Unfortunately, some guards were … rather descriptive about the …," and she lowered her voice even more, "… picnic."

"Ah." Fili looked down at his son whose arms and legs kept shifting to get better hand and foot holds and wrapped his arms tightly around him. "Now Frerin I think you're big enough to help me off with the rest of my armor." With an excited squeal, he let go and yanked on the greave protecting Fili's left shin.

"Carefully, son. You can't get that off without undoing the buckles first. Do you know how?"

"Yes, papa!"

"Well then, Frerin, this is your job now."

"_Mine?_"

Fili sat on their bed while Frerin attacked the straps with fierce determination. Husband and wife grinned at each other over their son's blond head, and Fili mouthed a kiss to her.

"I'm glad you're back, my love," Della said with a tender rub of her belly. Her eyes shone softly. She wouldn't let herself cry, but he knew she wanted to, and he loved her for both wanting to and holding back for Frerin's sake.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," he replied, "and when Frerin is done, I want him to take a long nap, yes, Frerin, you heard me, and then Della, my darling wife, you and I will take a nap as well."

"After you bathe."

"That goes without saying and perhaps you could see your way to ...?"

"I've already taken my bath for the day, but my back does ache, so perhaps I could be persuaded ..."

"Wonderful! Frerin, are you done with those buckles yet?"

* * *

Matters weren't so easy in the healing chambers though. Healers and others who volunteered to take care of the visitors hurriedly stretchered in those who were either too exhausted or too injured to walk. Some just needed rest to recover, but others were seriously wounded and had healers hovering anxiously around them.

"Get them in! Get them in! Right there. Put that one there."

"Run, get more bandages. I want the tinctures where I can get at them. No, right on the table. Now, now, lay back. I've got you. Give you some medicine here, and you'll feel better in a jiffy."

"No, no, get those needles in the fire. I want them clean."

"We need more soap."

"Isn't there more in the cupboard?"

"Get them out of their clothes—all of them. I want those clothes either boiled or burned. Bring the smocks. We'll get their measurements later."

"Are the kettles ready?"

"Most of them, aye."

"Remember, dump the water after each bath into the sewer drain, scrub them well, and then fill them again with boiling water."

"Master Oin that will take a lot of time."

"Would you rather a plague enters the mountain?"

"You heard him. You four take that task."

"What's he doing? Keep him from leaving! Don't let him go out that door!"

"The guards outside will stop him."

"How _dare_ you! I'll have you clapped in irons!"

"I'm sorry, my lord, but you can't leave until you're cleared. Yes, I understand your status, my lord, but … Now if you'll just here me out, no, wait, if you'll … This comes _directly_ from King Thorin. No, he told me _himself_. Three days, I'm thinking. My lord, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but he _is_ king, and it is _his_ kingdom. Have me removed? You can ask him, my lord, _once_ you've been cleared."

On the other side of the room, Lord Vinn, Tildur, Mebla, and Sella stood around the bed where Feron was having his shoulder treated. The arrows had jagged tips but thankfully missed the joint, although the bleeding was enough to soak wads of bandages. Another had taken over for Oin after the Lord of the Grey Mountains decided the quarantine didn't apply to him.

"I apologize for the commotion, my lord," the healer said to Feron, "but Master Oin will return after he settles this, erm, other matter."

"My lord?" Tildur asked. "Our rank has elevated since entering the mountain."

"Very funny," Feron said with a glower at his brother. His right eyelid twitched and he scowled and grunted when the healer started cleaning his wounds with whiskey-soaked cloths but nodded him on when he pulled back. "No, don't stop. I'd rather pain than infection."

"Oh, so brave," Mebla said with a suspicious twitch of her mouth. "What a _hero_."

"Don't start," Sella said, knowing what was coming.

"So, good healer," Tildur said, ignoring Sella's warning, "the shoulder needs to be stitched, doesn't it? Are your needles sharp enough?"

Feron lost more color in a heartbeat, and his siblings hooted at his blank look of horror while Sella rolled her eyes. For all his bravery and daring, he had one glaring weakness that brought endless amusement to his siblings.

"That must be a record," Tildur said, and he wagged his brows. "We've never gotten him that white before."

"Maybe because he's seriously hurt this time, Tildur," his father said with a pointed look, but Tildur was unrepentant.

"Shall we tell Areen you fainted _again_, brother?"

"I didn't faint that time," Feron said. "I _never _fainted. I needed to lie down after I broke my leg, and I was spent those other times. If I ever faint it'll be because I'm _dying_."

The healer looked up and around to see Feron looking both defiant and nervous, his brother and sister triumphant, and his father a mixture of annoyance and amusement. Sella shook her head, and Tildur yelped at the sharp kick at his ankle.

"We have a salve that deadens the pain, my lord," the healer said helpfully. "You can't even feel the prick." Mebla and Tildur deflated at once and Feron grinned smugly.

"If it's not too much trouble, honorable healer," he said.

"But perhaps then there won't be enough to go around," Tildur ventured hopefully. He prodded the healer with a glance but to no avail.

"Oh no," the healer replied, "we have plenty. Some of our ladies also have an aversion to needles ..."

"Ha!" Tildur crowed.

"As well as some of our finest warriors."

"Ha yourself, brother," Feron retorted. "Ready when you are, good healer."

"Add this to it once the wound is clean and before you stitch," Lord Vinn said, and he pulled out a packet of herbs. "It'll slow the bleeding."

"Hold still then, my lord," he said. Feron sat upright and said nothing while the healer coaxed away blood and dirt. Mebla and Tildur acknowledged defeat and turned to listen in on the raised voices beyond.

"Not again," Tildur said with a groan. None acknowledged the efforts of Areen's father to bully his way out of the healing rooms. The family Vinn had had too much of him on the trip to spare him another glance.

From the first, when he returned to the Grey Mountains with an unusually grim Lord Boron by his side, Areen's father kept up a running stream of vitriol punctuated with frequent curses at the Durins. At first, everyone thought the worst had happened, that King Thorin had backed out of the agreement. However, when they heard from Lord Boron that he had, in fact, ordered a larger-than-expected shipment, everyone cheered and figured correctly that Erebor's king had sized up the Lord of the Grey Mountains and found him wanting. Not surprising since almost everyone else did.

"You'd think he was talking about his mortal enemy instead of his trading partner," Sella had said out of the side of her mouth. "You know, he's lucky King Thorin didn't kick him out on his arse the first day." Feron, Tildur, and Mebla grimaced, barely able to conceal their disgust.

"Are you sure you want to come then, Sella?" Tildur asked with a puckish grin. "He's not worth the trip."

"But she is," Sella countered. "We swore, didn't we, that we'd never leave each other?"

"Yes, but you _know_ it doesn't apply to you, Sella," Mebla said, "because ..."

"Don't you dare say it again, Mebla Vinn!" she hissed. "Don't, _don't_ give me that line about not getting mixed up in affairs of state. Too late. _Way_ too late. Now where are my skillets?"

"Better give up, sister," Feron said with a dip of his head at Sella, "she's going with us."

"Friends stick with friends," she said with a squeeze of Mebla's arm. "Besides, with you three gone, life at home will be unbearable."

Later that week, she almost changed her mind after being in the company of Areen's father even from a distance.

"I knew he was always like that," she said, "but is he _always_ like that?" They turned to watch him berate a servant for laying out a creased bedroll, and that was after he screamed at the cook because the hash browns weren't crisp enough.

"Pretty much," Tildur said.

"Oaf," she said.

"_What_ did you say?" asked a passing guard with a sneer. He stalked up to the group and stuck his mottled face in front of Sella. "_What_ did you say?"

"I said, 'loaf'," she replied as cool as an autumn breeze. "I was saying I won't be able to bake since I didn't bring my loaf pan."

He stared into their faces, but none gave anything away. They blandly discussed outdoor cooking methods instead of the treason he was hoping for.

"Then again I wouldn't have even heat distribution over a fire."

Feron appeared to think on the problem while the others discussed her latest recipes. The guard listened in like he was trying to decode a secret language and found out more than he wanted to know about what happens when cream burns.

"You know, Sella," Feron began, "you could have used banked coals as a steady heat source if you'd brought your pan."

"Hmm, I should try that when I get back. Might give my cheese puffs a bolder flavor."

"Couldn't make them any worse," the guard replied before stomping back to the fire.

"Oaf," she muttered.

Matters deteriorated quickly when they realized orcs were tracking them. Areen's father immediately ordered all guards to protect him, leaving the rest on their own. Anyone who ventured anything to the contrary faced his scorching temper.

"Who are they to me? I am the lord, and they are merely my subjects. Sometimes sacrifice is necessary. It is I alone who can deal with King Thorin, so _I_ must be protected."

He went on that way for some time until Lord Boron, who had been pacing on the sidelines, suddenly marched toward him and stood nose to nose. They moved off under the trees, Lord Boron with his hands on his hips, and his liege with his arms folded across his chest. Everyone watched their unusual interaction. No one had ever interrupted their lord's tirade before. Even more surprising was his sudden change of heart.

"It has been brought to my attention that I may have been misunderstood," he said in just as cold and haughty a tone. He threw Lord Boron a look of pure venom before continuing. "Of course, my guards must provide safe escort for my people because it will take all of you to guard my person."

Lord Boron stood off to the side listening and weighing what he had heard. Somehow satisfied, he nodded and turned his back on Areen's father to get some food. At the conclusion of the matter, Lord Vinn made his way to his children and Sella.

"Stay sharp," he said before chancing a glance at Lord Boron who returned to the fire, now surrounded by more guards than before. "He's making a move at last."

"What do you mean, my lord?" Sella asked. The old dwarf put a large, gnarled hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

"I mean that Lord Boron has ever played both sides, never committing entirely to anyone or anything. Oh, he never claimed to be part of the best, yet he never owned up to being part of the worst either. He's a cipher, but now I think he's showing his hand to perhaps win the guards to his side. We'll see. I may be wrong."

"Not likely, father," Feron said, taking care not to look over his shoulder, "but what would Boron have over him to make him stand down like that? Something that happened at Erebor?"

"Most certainly, and I fear for Areen."

"Why?" Sella asked. "Her brother is heir and then her mother."

"Yes," Lord Vinn said, "but something has tipped the balance of power, and she's in the middle of it without champion or protector."

"Father, common courtesy demands that King Thorin and his prince protect her from harm," Tildur said. "She can't be in any real danger there, can she?"

"Erebor is large, Tildur. Anything can happen and still be called an accident."

Sella bit her lip, and Mebla moved closer and linked their arms. Feron stood straighter, and Tildur reached for the hidden blade in his pocket.

"I trust you all to honor the oaths you made when you came of age," Lord Vinn said. "We protect our own. Feron, you know what to do when we get there, and I must say it does my old heart good to see you so willing."

"Willing?" Mebla said with a giggle. "He jumped to volunteer."

"Old habits die hard," Feron said to general laughter.

"You still plan on walking behind her once you're wed?" Tildur asked as he clapped his brother on the back.

"If she'll have me I'll be where I've always been."

"Did you ever wish for another life, brother?"

He considered her words while the others waited before shaking his head with a smile.

"Wondered maybe but never wished for, not since father and Queen Nyr asked us to join the Secret Servants and keep watch over Areen. I can't imagine a greater calling than to serve her and our people in such a way."

"Nor I," Sella said.

"Nor I," Mebla added, "and we really are a people now, aren't we? I've wondered what life would be like if our great-grandparents hadn't come from the Iron Hills to resettle the Grey Mountains, but I don't feel like we're a colony now."

"No, not anymore," Lord Vinn said. "I'm grateful for our kin still there and that it'll be a haven for you all and Areen, but I can safely say we're our own kingdom now. Our herbs and dyes have given us some standing and hope of prosperity."

"Only hope," Sella said after looking around, "since Areen's father insists on bankrupting us."

"We've had it tough," Tildur said, "but when things get better I'd like to travel since I'm not for court life anyway."

"Neither is Areen, but if she chooses the prince of Erebor regardless?" his father asked Feron who looked thoughtful.

"I want her to be happy, father, and at peace," he said without hesitation. "Mahal knows she deserves it. If he'll love her and treat her as she deserves they'll have my blessing. I'll not begrudge her any joy she finds."

"So noble," Mebla said with a coy roll of her eyes, "but you really want her to pick you, don't you?"

"She has loved me all her life, and I can't expect more, although I won't deny I want it. There, is that what you wanted to hear, sister?"

"Yes, it's what I want," she said after giving him a tight hug. "I can't think of anyone who can match you. Who could? Who's done what you have for her? No one, and that's a fact. I know you're waiting for her answer before you bind yourself to her, but you'd better do everything you can to beat this prince or I'll beat _you!_"

"Consider yourself warned, Feron," Sella said with a grin.

After they broke camp, they made their way as best they could, always keeping off the road and near defensible places. It was when the road to Lake-Town widened, and they had to come out into the open, that there was trouble. Orcs attacked both them and a large and well-armed caravan of men that had arrived, and with forces coming from Lake-town to fight for their own, the dwarves managed to escape. It wasn't until they were half-way between Lake-town and Dale that they knew for sure the orcs were in still pursuit.

"Damn buggers," Tildur shouted to his brother and sister as they held up the rear. "We won't be able to outrun them for long."

Feron looked up to see a flock of ravens flying overhead, swooping and diving to distract the orcs. More than once it gave them precious time to evade their pursuers. Finally, exhausted and despairing, they turned the last corner and beheld Erebor. The sheer number of battle-ready warriors waiting renewed their strength, and thanks to King Thorin, they and their people made it into the infirmary alive. Sharing the healing chambers with Areen's father though was a battle of another kind.

"Mahal, he's going to crack the walls with his shouting," Sella said. "Doesn't he need to breathe?"

"Don't make me put you under guard, my lord!" They groaned at his shabby treatment of their rescuers and waited for Feron's healer to finish his work. He glanced frequently at Feron as did others from Erebor who were curious about the brave and handsome dwarf who had come for the princess. Somehow that rumor had gotten around after servants heard Otha and Kitra discussing his chances when they thought they were alone in a hallway.

"So where's Lord Boron?" Tildur asked looking around. "Off to secure his claim?"

"Lower your voice, son," Lord Vinn said. "We must present a united front for our people. They need this trade agreement."

"But at what cost, father?" Mebla whispered. "Surely King Thorin knows what Areen's father is by now?"

"No doubt everyone does," Feron said with a sour downturn of his mouth. "He's hardly keeping it a secret."

They listened to his fury for another moment before waving him away.

"So those _were_ King Thorin's ravens keeping watch on us and helping us get away?" Mebla said to change the subject. Her father nodded. He was sure from the first that the large, black birds had come from Erebor. He had noticed their behavior, but his children found it hard to believe that King Thorin had command over such creatures.

"I don't think he rules them, Mebla," her father said, "rather that they are allies. The world is full of wonders, and the ravens of Erebor are one of them. King Thorin was very well informed and ready for us."

That was certainly true. They were impressed by Erebor's diligence at tracking their whereabouts and its swift response to their plight. The sight of war goats barreling toward them, their pounding hooves making the ground shake, filled them with the hope that they might make it after all.

"Was that King Thorin fighting?" Mebla asked. "After Feron was hit I saw a warrior battle his way toward us. He was very skilled and dressed much more finely than the others."

"I believe you are right," her father said. "No other warrior was so richly attired nor so deft with the sword." He shook his head, smiling at the image of the charging dwarf in mitril mail who slashed his way through orc lines. "Yes, I think we saw the mighty Thorin Oakenshield himself. Impressive, isn't he?"

"Who was the blond one?" Tildur asked. "I thought I saw the royal sigil on our way in. His armor was fine as well."

"Prince Kili perhaps?" Mebla asked, the pitch of her voice a little higher than usual. "He's very handsome."

"I think not," Lord Vinn said. "I believe he was the crown prince. I've heard the younger prince is dark."

"All this for Areen?" Tildur wondered.

"All this because King Thorin asked us to come," his father corrected, "although it does speak well of them. I had heard Thorin Oakenshield was an honorable dwarf if a bit stern and unfriendly, and I'm pleased to see that the honorable part is true."

"So they're treating Areen well then, father?" Mebla asked, but before he could answer, Oin made his way over after slipping Areen's father a sedative disguised in a glass of fine wine. He argued for some time before slurring his words and demanding a cot, which was quickly supplied. After helping him on it, the healers scattered.

"If our reception is any indication," Lord Vinn said.

"I want to see for myself," Tildur declared stoutly. "Blindness trumps rank, and you know what _that_ means."

"Why don't we ask him?" Feron said, waving his good hand at Oin who was approaching with an apologetic smile.

"Ask me what?" Oin said.

"How Areen's been faring since she's been at Erebor." Mebla asked.

Oin's face screwed up on one side, and his eyes flicked up, down, and around before he could face the Vinns.

"That well, eh?" Feron asked with heavy sarcasm. "Seems I got here just in time."

* * *

**So what do you think of Erebor's noble guests? I know what you think of her father, and his is coming. Please review!**


	35. Chapter 35

**I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to post. School sapped my inspiration and energy as papers and assignments started piling up, but out of desperation to do something creative this chapter appeared! And I apologize for not answering everyone's reviews for the last chapter. Things got crazy really fast, but I sure do appreciate them, so thank you for each and every one! **

* * *

**Chapter 35**

They were well. My friends were well. I couldn't go down there to find out for myself because everyone was barred from the entrance to the sick rooms, but Kili sent word to the guards to inquire, and they shouted back down the hall. I had to make sure. Bofur said that the clouds of dust had obscured the battlefield, and with all the milling about, they could have been hurt and no one know until later.

"Just Feron, and he's on the mend," Kili said. "I made sure to ask. Everyone's in good health. Not a scratch."

I let go of my breath with a whoosh. The overwhelming relief I felt had been tinged with worry that tickled my stomach. They had gone through a harrowing experience, and even if they escaped unscathed in the skirmish, they could have been hurt earlier on, but praise Mahal, there was nothing to worry about now. I was almost giddy with reassurance.

"Thank you for protecting them."

"I didn't do anything, Areen. I don't deserve any thanks."

He sounded disappointed and chagrined, and I understood why. He wanted to knock heads—off—just as much as I did. Waiting on the side chafed while war cries resounded below, and relief at the outcome didn't erase feeling like a bystander. Still, he would have run out there in a flash if needed. That made him as much a hero as the others in my opinion.

"But you stood ready to fight just like Thorin and Fili, so thank you."

He mumbled under his breath, debating my words, before harrumphing and squeezing my hand.

"You're welcome."

"At least you could have gone," I said, not wanting him to feel alone. "I wanted to skewer some orcs myself, but I'll never get the chance."

"Be glad you never will," he said, his sober tone squelching my effort to be light. He paused, and I wondered if unpleasant memories had come to mind. He must have racked up dozens, but before I could ask he sighed and changed the subject. "Come, you must be hungry. Food's been brought to the Healing Hall, and they're in good hands, so we can go now."

I returned his squeeze. "I do believe all the excitement's given me a good appetite."

He laughed at that.

"When haven't you?"

Only one time did I lose my appetite, when my stomach refused food and sent it back up. I didn't care if I ate or not because the circumstances more than accounted for it.

"The first weeks I went blind, but only then, and I'm sure it would take something as dire to make that happen again."

"I believe it."

We made our way to the feast, and while I was still concerned for my friends, I headed off secure in my appetite that all was well. Father returned with them, but I didn't care. He no longer figured in my life in any important way. What a change that was! He had been the central tormenting figure in my life, and so many of my emotions—the grindingly resentful ones anyway—depended on what he said and did.

It occurred to me then how much of my life was a reaction to him, but that had lessened since my almost-month at Erebor. I had seen a different life, one of happy families and trusted and respected lords. We had those at home, but they weren't the norm. Here though they were. A thriving, happy kingdom. The dwarves of Erebor, from what I could tell, universally revered their king. Why else would dozens risk their lives to get him out of the mine? If the mine had caved in on father, they would have left him to molder, making the excuse that he was beyond reach. He was too in so many ways. He had turned into a remote figure, almost a ghost, and I knew that whatever he said and did from now on wouldn't touch me the same. Besides, Thorin had promised help should I need it, and now I wouldn't hesitate to ask.

Lord Boron, however, concerned me. I needed to know mother was well, and no one else could tell me. His anger that day was real, no doubt about it, and that earned him the merest sliver of trust. I also wanted to know about Thorin and Fili. They returned unharmed, but I wanted to hear their voices all the same.

"Will Thorin and Fili be there?"

"Of course."

"Good. They're my heroes, and I want to thank them personally."

"Am I not?" He was joking but I heard an undertone of uncertainty nonetheless.

"You have to ask?

* * *

Fili's stomach grumbled loudly as he dressed in a tawny doublet and breeches.

"Ah, that bath was wonderful," he said with a contented smile at Della who brushed out her long, straight hair. Her hair pins had loosened in the humidity before Fili pulled them out altogether. He wagged his brows. "Nothing like a loving wife to come home to." He cast a glance into the room beyond. "And our beloved son sleeping so soundly. I'm glad we took advantage of the time." He wagged his brows again. Della's lips quirked.

"I'm surprised you weren't more tired," she said. "When you came in you looked a little worse for wear."

"Only my armor," he returned, "and with such beauty before me, how could I not be inspired?"

"Flirt," she said, grinning with a sidelong flick of her eyes. His opened wider, and his grin turned wolfish.

"Don't tempt me now," he said. Walking over to her seated in front of the vanity mirror, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, and growled on her neck. He always loved her delighted squeal and the goosebumps that rose on her left arm. Sure enough, she squealed and tried to twist away from him, but he held fast and kissed her soft shoulder.

"Never fails to rouse me, my love," he said with a jaunty grin. "Frerin's still asleep you know."

"Papa's a bear!" came his sleepy, lisping voice from the other room. Rubbing his eyes, Frerin made his way to his parents with a stop or two along the way for yawning stretches.

Husband and wife caught each other's reflections in the mirror and shrugged.

"Come my fierce cub," Fili said, and he tussled Frerin's hair and took his hand. Della stood and took Fili's other hand. "Let's get something to eat. I'm famished."

Down the hall and to the left, behind deeply carved, oaken doors, Thorin dried the rivulets running down his chest and flipped his hair back. He rolled his shoulders and pulled the towel taut to see-saw across his back. Lips tugged up in a satisfied smile. Battle always stirred his blood, and rescuing innocent dwarves and invited guests to boot satisfied both his honor and ever-present desire to grind remaining orcs into dust. It was a good day. An added bonus was keeping his promise to Areen. He hadn't played false and broken his oath, and he even found it an interesting exercise to execute each stroke of his sword for maximum range with minimum risk.

Tonight was a night for celebration. Protection against the plague had come and along with it other valuable medicines and herbs and spices to savor. Too bad they had to wait three days for them, but he would take no chances of contagion coming from much-handled packages.

Reaching into his closet, he pulled out a fresh, blue-black tunic with a richly embroidered collar and his sable-trimmed robes. His older ones weren't fit to wear after being torn, soiled, and bloodied in the mine. He thought back to those days, and his lips turned up. Thick fingers nimbly laced his breeches and tightened the straps on his boots. With a quick pushing of his hair away from his face, he turned away from his mirror without looking and strode down the hall.

"Uncle!"

He turned to see Kili approaching with Areen on his arm. Kili looked smart in a deep brown velvet, and Areen appeared relaxed and comfortable at his side. After a moment Thorin found his smile.

_A handsome couple. Perhaps she will stay for him even though Feron is here. She needs to stay._

"You looked like you ate something queer, Thorin," Kili said. "Don't tell me Slif's losing his golden touch."

"Not at all."

He stared at Areen's expression as she listened to Kili, not sure what he searched for but not finding it. She turned her head toward Kili to concentrate on his conversation with his brother, but then her chin lifted and smile widened.

"I'm so glad you're here." She beamed at him, and he felt that glow fill his chest. "I worried about you."

"I kept my promise, as you see."

"No, I don't, but yes I do." He grinned at her jest and Kili chuckled.

"All's well," Kili said to close that topic of conversation.

"Yes, it is," she said, and she held out her arms. Kili and Thorin looked at each other confused. After a beat, she wiggled her fingers. "I got my proper hug from Kili, and now I want one from you."

Thorin paused, but one look at Kili's cheerful grin gave him permission. Her fingertips curled around his forefinger, and he pulled her toward him. She settled easily into his embrace.

"Hmmm. Thank you, thank you again, Thorin," she said. "I say that a lot these days, don't I?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "I don't know why I ever thought you an ugly brute of a dwarf because you are _lovely_." To his great surprise, she squeezed him around the waist and wriggled against him, so pleased with him she couldn't contain her excitement. He made to step back, but she held on for a final squeeze. "There! A proper hug."

"Indeed," was all he could come up with.

Kili snickered at Thorin's sudden confusion but didn't comment on his heightened color.

"Told you so, although _lovely_ wasn't the word I had in mind. Heart of mithril though, erm, once you get past the brute-of-a-dwarf layer."

Thorin huffed, but Areen laughingly tucked her arm around his and held out her other to Kili who took it with a flourish.

"We're honored to escort you, Areen," Kili said.

"And I'm honored to be escorted by two of the handsomest dwarves in Erebor."

They walked a few steps before Kili stopped.

"'_Two_ of the handsomest dwarves'? You saw me, but how did you see Thorin?"

With a sudden intake of breath, she flushed dark red and chewed on her bottom lip. Thorin's dimples deepened, and he coughed to cover his amusement. Kili looked both up and down, and his brows pulled together.

"What happened down there? No, don't tell me." He thought hard for a moment before snorting with glee. "Did he come to while you were examining him, or did you fess up later?"

She spluttered in horrible embarrassment, bumped up against Thorin, and pleaded with her whole face, but he refused to come to her rescue.

"I was unconscious at the time, but I will say her examination was thorough."

Kili gaped at his uncle before throwing back his head and guffawing.

"I'm going to get you for that, Thorin," she said. "Just you wait."

"I look forward to your attempts," he said, smirking at her open-mouthed vexation. "You're quite creative," and with that, the door opened for them, and they made their way to the raucous chamber beyond where loud noises and wafting aromas met them at the door.

"What's your pleasure, Areen?" Kili asked. "I spy a whole roast pig, haunches of venison, and a platter of seasoned ribs to start."

Without thinking she smacked her lips, and both Durins chuckled.

"Lead on," she said.

The scents of creamed turnips drenched with butter, quail, platters of sausages, mulled wine, and sweetmeats took their turns drifting under their nostrils. A sentry pounded a ceremonial staff on the floor to get everyone's attention.

"Thorin Oakenshield, King of Erebor, and Prince Kili!" he called out. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "and the Princess Areen."

The assembly stood and made loud reverence to their king and prince. Fili and Frerin were already seated and making their way through hefty servings while Della pushed her food around her plate. The company was just beyond, happily tucked in with several plates each.

"Please, love," Fili said, and he forked some of his food on her plate. "You must eat more than bread. Just a little more."

"I'm afraid the events of the day upset my stomach."

"Look, your favorite," he replied, and he reached for the bowl. "Candied yams."

"Maybe just a little."

With an eager breath, he spooned a small hill on her plate, and she laughed with her hand on her stomach.

"Even you've never eaten this many, Fili! You have to help me."

"A forkful for me then a forkful for you." He hovered over her with an anxious smile, and she sighed and put her hand on his. His hand covered hers.

"Della, for our babe."

"Yes, of course," and she did her best while Fili watched each forkful lift from her plate to her mouth.

Flush with triumph, the dwarves feasted, drank, and danced until late in the evening. Fili patted Della's arm to wake her. Frerin fell asleep long ago, and Fili had carried him up the stairs with his mussed head on his shoulder, but Della couldn't bear to leave yet. The time would come when she needed to leave before the feast ended, and she wanted to make the most of her freedom while she had it.

"Come, love, you're tired," he said. "No, I know you want to stay, but you're falling asleep in your chair." She looked around at others dancing with gusto and opened her mouth to protest, but Fili shook his head and pushed back from the table. "I'm tired too. What do you say we both leave now?" She brightened.

"I'm taking Della up," he said to the others at the table, and Thorin and Kili nodded and smiled at Della with soft eyes.

"Take good care of her, Fili," Thorin said. He raised one brow. "She needs her rest. I'm sure today was wearing for her."

"I will, aye. Come, love," and taking her hand in his, he put his other around her back and helped her up. She turned to Areen who was intent on every word.

"I'm very pleased your people are safe," she said with a weary smile. "I'm sure a great weight's been lifted."

"Thank you, yes it has," Areen said. She drew herself up with a proud tilt to her head. Thorin noted again her obvious loyalty and felt a twinge. His eyes followed Fili and Della out the door.

"Good woman, that Della," Dwalin said saluting the empty doorway with his ale in hand. "Never seen Fili happier."

"Nor I," Kili said, "but we all have something to be happy about tonight, don't we, Areen?" He was about to ask her to reserve time for him tomorrow when Bofur came up to the table. He had guzzled almost a fifth of a keg by himself and was more than ready to enjoy some company aside from _the_ company. Dori's monologues on wine made his ears hurt, and Nori's frequent musical belches had turned his stomach. He lurched his way toward Areen and bowed so deeply he nearly fell over.

"A dance milady?" Kili watched her smile fall.

"I'm, I'm afraid I don't—can't—dance."

"Why I'll teach you. Never fear."

Areen turned to Kili, and he patted her hand. Thorin shook his head, but Kili didn't see it.

"He _is_ a good teacher, although he may not be his best tonight, but I'll rescue you before he passes out."

"Thanks a bunch," but with his help she stood and curtsied to Bofur. "How are we going to do this?"

"Just put your lovely self in my hands."

"You'd better not drop me."

* * *

It was unsettling to move in circles and patterns that seemed incomprehensible at first, but he _was_ a good teacher, and I had fun letting him dance me around; that is, until he started slurring his instructions and stumbling over his feet and mine. The first few dances were slower and less complicated, and I actually started to get the hang of them, but they got faster as the musicians lost their sense of timing—must have been the ale they were guzzling between songs—and Bofur couldn't keep up though he tried, he really tried.

"Ouch!"

"A thousan' pardons, milady," he said, and he did a little hop to steady himself and gain his bearings. I was hoping he'd lead me back to the table, but unfortunately the music started up again. "One more time!" His sweaty fingers wrapped around mine, but to my eternal gratitude another voice broke in.

"I believe you need to sit this one out, Bofur," Kili said. "Besides, it's my turn." My toes thanked him, each and every one. I felt their little swollen selves crowding in my shoes pushing and shoving for room.

"Kili, I don't think I can dance anymore."

"Just one, Areen, and don't fret. I know what to do." A rollicking melody started. "I've got you." We swayed to the music, not really dancing but moving with the beat. "Better?"

"Much," I said.

"I want to spend some time with you alone," he said, suddenly serious. "We've had little time together, but I've enjoyed every minute, and we need to find out what we want of each other."

"Not every minute, Kili," I said reminding him of our strained conversation when I revealed the truth, but he only laughed.

"Water under the bridge," he said. "No, truly, what do you say?"

"I agree and I'd enjoy that very much." He laughed then and caught us up with the steps. I didn't mind.

* * *

Back at the table, Balin watched Thorin watch Kili and Areen.

"You should dance with her yourself, you know," he said to his glowering king. "You're host remember, and it's expected."

"I suppose it is," Thorin said, "but she's doing very well with Kili, and she's here for him, remember."

Balin watched a parade of emotions march across Thorin's face. The casual onlooker might not have noticed, but Balin knew his old friend too well and spied something amiss but didn't know what. Thorin caught his inquiring look and schooled his expression to give away nothing, but Balin decided to press the point.

"You should," he said. "You don't want anyone thinking something's wrong, do you? She needs all the support she can get."

Thorin got to his feet without another word. Everyone parted to make way for him, and when the song ended, he gripped Kili's shoulder.

"May I?" he asked with a significant look at his sister-son. "Open approval will only help."

Kili understood at once, kissed Areen's hand, and passed it to his uncle's outstretched palm.

"Thank you for the dance, Areen," Kili said with a low bow. "I look forward to our time tomorrow."

"So do I," she said. She turned to Thorin with a broad smile, her eyes crinkling at the edges. "I think this is my last dance of the night though."

"It is for everyone," he replied.

"What'll it be?" she asked. "Another fast, foot-stomping one? My toes are screaming at me."

Moving in, he put his broad hands on her back.

"No. The last dance is a slow one. _Very_ slow. It's tradition to end the night."

Now that their king was in their midst, the musicians made a greater effort to regain their bearings and started with the pipes to play a low, wistful melody that remembered the past but looked with hope to the future.

"Put your feet on mine," he said. "You should have no trouble finding them." She laughed and stepped up on his boots, making her tall enough to talk to him without craning her neck. With careful steps he began to move and led her through the graceful dance. He looked down at her face and blinked contentedly at her dreamy smile.

"I feel like I'm floating," she said, enraptured by the feeling.

Over at the table, Balin, Dwalin, Kili, and Nori watched. Bombur was sleeping against the wall, his fat legs spread, and his stomach bouncing slightly with every snoring breath. Bofur was rising and falling with it, having passed out on his brother. Bifur kept lifting his ale to his mouth and spilling it over his shoulder instead.

"All seems well now," Balin said to his brother. "They had quite the battle of wills there for a while, but they worked it out. Good. That'll make things easier if she stays."

"Will she though?" Dwalin asked. The two sat back and watched Thorin dance with both arms around her waist to keep her steady. Her hands gripped his biceps. Pressing up on his boots, she whispered as close to his ear as she could, and a hearty laugh rang out. The cheerful din lessened in surprise, and whispers commented on the king's merry mood. It was understandable after his decisive victory, and soon enough the volume rose again to fill out the chamber to the peak of its vaulted ceiling.

"She's much happier than when she first came," Balin said with his head tilted to one side. His eyes never left them. "That says a lot. I know her Feron's here, but look at her smiling at Thorin. She was the picture of gloom then."

"That he's _her_ _Feron_ says a lot too," Dwalin countered. He glanced again at Thorin and Areen on the floor. She stepped off his feet, and he twirled her slowly before taking her into his arms again. She fit well against him, and Dwalin's left brow rose.

"Well, aye, they seemed to have buried their differences," he said, "so that's one obstacle out of the way for Kili."

Balin watched as Thorin leaned over to murmur in her ear. They couldn't hear what he said, but whatever it was provoked a gale of delighted giggles.

"Yes, one obstacle out of the way," he agreed.

* * *

**I must say that you readers have been wonderful, and I'm grateful for your support of my story. I tried to count the days since Areen came to Erebor, but I lost track, so whatever it should be, I'm saying it's almost a month. Maybe I'll go back and figure out the timeline, but thanks enchantedstarlight**** for bringing it up and dear readers don't hesitate to criticize. I'm not thin-skinned and will never take offense. My goal is to write a good story, so anything you have to say to help is more than appreciated! In that spirit please review. The more the merrier! In the next couple of chapters, one love interest's true interest will be revealed, so stay tuned!**


	36. Chapter 36

**Here's a little something to stir the pot!**

* * *

**Chapter 36**

Kili was on time the next morning. Early in fact. So early that I was in the middle of having my hair done. Thank goodness I was already dressed. Otha froze holding hairpins that jabbed my head. I felt the tips digging into my scalp with increasing pressure.

"Areen, I'm not finished!"

"Don't worry, Otha, just do twin braids at my temples like before. That seemed to please them."

"The king anyway."

She hurried to make me presentable while Kitra clipped a thin sapphire necklace around my neck. It was from Della. She said it was on account of what had happened in the mine, but I surmised it was her idea of a bribe on Frerin's behalf since she said he had picked it out. It was nice to be thought of, and I missed him. My arms felt empty, and nothing but a sweet bundle of Frerin would fill them. I had to see him today.

"Be just a minute, Kili!"

"No hurry!" he said through the door. "I'll wait all day if need be."

"I'm going to swoon," Otha muttered near my ear. I said I'd allow it but only after my hair was done. We burst into giggles which prompted some shifting of feet on the other side of the door.

"That had better not be about me!"

Another burst of titters had him laughing. His was a happy, honest one, and if I'd never spent any time with him and only had his laugh to go by I'd still know straight off what a generous, warm-hearted dwarf he was.

"If only all my days started so well! Are you going to let me in?"

"You said you'd wait all day."

"I didn't mean for you to take me seriously!"

I walked over to the door with Sky and opened it. "I didn't."

"You look lovely, Areen," he said with a courtly air.

"Flirt."

"Completely," he agreed, "and enjoying every minute of it."

Sky whined for permission, and I let her go. With a happy snuffle, she licked as much of Kili as she could get to. I gathered he was on his knees, which was a mistake if he wanted to stay dry. He didn't seem to mind though.

"That's a good girl. How smart you look today! Like having your ears scratched do you? Belly too? My you're spoiled." I heard him fingering her harness and clucking his tongue. "Areen, that collar's falling apart."

"I know. I'll have it replaced soon. I'm ready to go." He laughed at the look on my face. I was eager and impatient, and it showed.

"And here I was waiting for you," he said. "Shall we? I have a whole day planned for us. Oh, by the way, I got your messages through to your friends."

"How? I had a lot to say."

"I shot an arrow down the hall with your letters attached."

"That's brilliant!"

"Yes, I thought so myself."

"Flirt."

After a cheerful and filling breakfast, we walked around Erebor to the parts I hadn't explored, and he explained the different hallways and described the different gem deposits encrusting the walls of the mountain. We went slowly because I wanted to feel, sniff, and listen along the way and experience everything for myself.

"The unfinished walls are like a storehouse of gold and gems, Areen, so sparkling I'd swear the stars had come inside."

"How beautiful! Oh, I wish I could see it!"

He made a noise then, wrapped one arm around my shoulders, and gave me a tender squeeze.

"Me too."

* * *

Thorin headed to the raven roost to see for himself if there were any messages from the Iron Hills. It was too soon to expect one, yet he felt the need to check anyway. Dain would hold out; that is, if he were still alive. The thought of such a calamity chilled his blood. He wouldn't wait for a messenger to come to him. No, at such a time, he wanted to retrieve any messages himself. It wouldn't matter though. Bad news was still bad news, and if such had come, there was nothing he could do to change it, but knowing the truth would keep him from imagining worse.

The roost was built into the side of the mountain just below an outcropping that hid it from view. There ravens would arrive, deliver their messages, and eat before returning to Ravenhill. Erebor's dwarves made the roost more than a century ago as a gesture of goodwill, which the ravens appreciated. Keeping allies happy was always wise foreign policy.

"My lord!" said the guard who snapped to attention when Thorin passed. He acknowledged the salute but said nothing. Too much was on his mind, and he paused at the bottom of steep stairs that wound inside the turret like a serpent's coil. News might also have come from other settlements and clans. Not all ravens had kept track of the caravan; others were keeping their eyes on the world and due back soon. It was a strange feeling to have Middle-earth—or at least the part that concerned him—closed off behind stout doors. Although he hadn't traveled since reclaiming Erebor, he disliked restrictions of any kind.

He placed his hand on the head of the black raven carving at the start of the stairs almost as a prayer. It wouldn't all be bad news. Not all of it. The plague was bound to run its course, and they would carry on as before. He started climbing while pondering the events of the past month, feeling like he'd lived a lifetime in those few weeks. So much had happened that he could scarce believe it, and in that time something fundamental had changed. There was a titanic shift, like a movement of a fault line, never again to align as it had before. Whether the change had come from circumstances or within himself he couldn't say, but it was profound, and he wondered if he needed to prepare a defense. That was always his way and had served him well so far.

He knew what at least of piece of the shift was though, and his steps slowed as his mind sped up. Never before had he interfered in the domestic affairs of another clan or kingdom. Persuasion was a tool that all dwarves used in business and other matters, and financial incentives were commonplace. Pointed comments and insinuations were also acceptable within reason. But what Thorin had in mind was a direct confrontation and intention to place himself and the might of Erebor between Areen and her father, between her people and those who would profit at their expense. He hadn't thought through more than the next few weeks, but his course was set for as long as father and daughter lived under his mountain. The rest he would decide after Areen made her choice.

Word had traveled from the sick rooms of her father's behavior, and Thorin spared a moment of pity for those who couldn't escape him for another two days. He would reward Oin and all volunteers handsomely for their sacrifice, which went far above risking life and limb. He shook his head. Those matters could wait. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for whatever he might learn and headed up the steps but stopped and cocked his head when he heard heavy breathing and amused chuckles far above him.

"You need to exercise more," he heard Kili say. "You've been _cooped_ up for too long."

Thorin stopped to listen, certain he knew who else was up there.

"_Excellent_ choice of words ... considering where we are, Kili," he heard Areen say through gasps, "but if you'll remember ... I _was_ cooped up under your mountain for a good, long time, so ... you'll just have to wait until I catch my breath."

Thorin frowned and hurried up the steps, hoping Kili didn't leave Areen behind in his eagerness to reach the top. He could be impulsive that way, but a sudden whoosh of breath and loud snuffles met Thorin at the top step. Sky sat on her haunches guarding the descent, no doubt protecting her mistress, but she made way for him before placing herself between him and Areen. Kili found that funny.

"You need to have Slif make her favorites before she'll budge an inch, Uncle," he said. He gave a short whistle, and Sky wagged her tail and pushed her nose against his leg. "Nothing to it."

"Don't spoil her, Kili," Areen said, and with a snap of her fingers, she called Sky to her side. "Feron will know right off if she's ... getting lazy, and I don't want another lecture from him on maintaining proper training."

"Sky is as much a guest as you are," Kili said with a self-righteous air, "and I'll not see her neglected."

"Nice try, but the smug ending killed it."

Areen turned to Thorin then and reached out one hand to him while pressing the other against her sternum. She was still breathing through her mouth. He took her hand and ran his thumbs along her palm.

"You're winded," he said, and he turned to Kili with accusation in his pinched brows and tight mouth. "You left her to fend for herself?"

"No, not at all, Thorin," she said. "I was slow, and he wanted to have the door open for me when I reached the top. I wasn't ... too far behind."

"Still." He wasn't satisfied with that answer, but he let the matter drop at her request.

"Are you here for news?" she asked.

"Yes."

Thorin knew that Kili had brought her up there as a curiosity, and he didn't want to spoil their time with grim thoughts, not so soon after their victory. He wanted to say something light and witty instead, but nothing came to mind. She moved closer.

"Do you want us to wait with you? Kili, we don't have to be anywhere soon, do we?"

"No. Uncle, we'd be happy to wait."

Thorin looked from one to the other and shook his head.

"No, thank you. I have no idea when one might arrive, and here is not the place to wait. I apologize for disturbing you."

Areen's brow furrowed at the same time that Kili protested. Thorin held up his hands.

"No, I will leave."

He turned to go, but Areen fumbled for and grabbed his arm.

"We will leave," she said, "_together_," and she gave him the same defiant glare she had earlier. "Anyway, it's cold up here, and I think I can imagine it well enough. Kili?" She cocked her head and waited for his response. "I miss Frerin. He left so early last night. Do you think we can spend some time with him?"

"A wonderful idea," he answered. "I'd like to see him myself, but I want most of the day for us. I have a surprise for you."

Thorin watched Areen suck in and bite down on her bottom lip like a little girl, and a chuckle resonated deep in his chest. He was pleased by how relaxed she was. She seemed comfortable with them and at Erebor. In everything he heard her say, she was impressed but not overawed. Her compliments were thoughtful and sincere, unlike so many others who wanted to curry favor with over-the-top blather on the smallest detail. Even if she had her sight, he didn't think she'd act like that. She valued people more, and he took a moment to congratulate his decision to bring her even though he bungled it so badly at first.

_She's happy here. She's herself._

A smile curved his lips, and his eyes rested lightly on her as Kili described the roost and how it functioned with bells that the ravens would ring to summon couriers. There wasn't much to explain though, and she hugged her shoulders and rubbed her arms. It was chilly because the portals had been left open to admit messengers as soon as possible. Whatever news they had was going to be urgent.

"So," she said after Kili answered her last question, "is it time to go downy?"

"What?" Thorin was confused, but Kili cackled and rose to the challenge of what Thorin soon discovered was another in a line of truly awful bird jokes.

"Yes," Kili said with mischief in his voice, "and if you need help on the stairs just caw."

"Oh, that's the worst one yet," she said before laughter bubbled up in her throat and echoed off the stone.

"Not as bad as when I couldn't get the door open and you said I shouldn't get in a flap about it. And what about when you told me to 'beak down the door'?"

"Those were _inspired_. Not like your 'I hope you're having a pheasant time.'"

"I liked that one," Kili protested, "and you laughed plenty."

"Because it was the first one. You caught me off-guard."

"I hope to do that often." After an indulgent shake of his head, Thorin held Kili back by his elbow.

"I want you going down before her, Kili," he said into his ear, "not next to her, and behind her going up stairs from now on. If she were to stumble, you'd break her fall. All Sky has to do is pull too hard on the leash."

"Yes, but she moves as surely as anyone with sight, Thorin. She hardly needs my help."

"Nevertheless I want it done."

Kili nodded and at once moved ahead of Areen. Thorin signaled his approval and then looked down the stairs and felt along the wall. A railing was needed, he decided. It would be too easy for someone to fall down those narrow stairs—not that anyone ever had—but a fall from that height could be serious. That train of thought led him to consider the hundreds of other hazards that Erebor offered the unaware, and he decided to bring up the matter at the next council meeting or perhaps call a special session. There were many elderly dwarves and wounded veterans of the Battle of the Five Armies who could use an extra measure of assistance and security. Dwarves were hardy folk and their balance impeccable, so low was their center of gravity. In fact, no one had _ever_ died from a fall outside the mines, no matter what their disability, yet there could always be that _one_ time that made all the difference. He nodded to himself, pleased that the matter came to mind.

With that newfound sense of purpose, Thorin walked behind the pair, observing their interactions and remembering his own with her in the mine. He felt a surge of pleasure and warm affection for her, for them, as they ambled in the generation direction of the training rings where Fili was showing Frerin basic defensive moves. Suddenly, a small but energetic body rounded the corner.

"Pincess Reen!"

Frerin smacked into her legs, causing her to lurch backward into Kili.

"Easy there, Frerin!" Kili said, suddenly grateful for Thorin's advice. "You don't want to knock her over, do you?"

Fili and Della walked up behind him at a leisurely pace, taking their time in an easy day without maiming or death to think about.

"Swing me!" Frerin shouted while jumping up and down. His face was pink and slightly tacky from running to and from his parents. Areen, Thorin, and Kili had heard him coming with the disembodied voices of his parents calling from behind to keep him in line.

"First I want a squeeze," Areen said, and she crouched and opened her arms wide. He hugged her hard and afterward held her face gently, placing forehead to forehead and nose to nose. The others stopped their casual talk and watched the pair. Something seemed to happen, where Areen and Frerin almost forgot others were watching. He patted her cheeks and watched her eyes drifted across and over his face without focusing.

"Here I am," and he moved his soft hands and lifted her chin to better meet his gaze. Her eyes dropped, and he lifted her chin further to compensate. "Here I am eyes." Reaching for her fingers, he put them on his face. "Here I am Pincess Reen. See me now?"

"I see you," she agreed. She felt his wide smile which sparked one of her own. "I love you, Frerin," she said, her voice soft and tender. "I love you very much. You're my sweetheart."

"_S_weetheart," he repeated, and he hugged her like they would be separated forever if not for his arms tight around her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she held him just as close.

"I'm sorry I didn't spend much time with you yesterday, sweetheart,' she said, "but you were very tired."

"He isn't now," Fili muttered into Della's ear. "I don't think he'll nap today. Pity. I was so looking forward to it."

"Swing me please."

Kili took one hand, and Thorin moved to take the other, but Frerin's sticky fingers grabbed Areen's thumb instead.

"Swing me?"

Laughing, she took Frerin's hand and prepared herself.

"On the count of three, Areen," Kili said. She stood wide and braced herself, but on the three, Frerin's toes dragged on the ground, and she had to use both arms and all her strength to keep him from sagging on her side.

"My goodness, Frerin! I think it'd be easier for you to swing me!"

"Allow me," Thorin said, stepping in and taking Frerin's hand.

"Oh, is this where you show off how strong you are?"

He wasn't rattled in the least. "No need. Everyone already knows."

Kili laughed at Areen's comeuppance, and he and Thorin swung Frerin up so high that he squealed with delight. More than once, Della had to cover her mouth with her hand and look away. Once Frerin had had enough, he grabbed Areen's sleeve and dragged her off to feel more carvings on nearby walls. The one he chose was a new one of the Battle of the Five Armies.

"Grandpa Thorn's!" and he led her to touch Thorin's large, granite palm.

"I've felt this before," she said to herself, and then a wicked grin stole over her face. "You know Frerin, he's not _really_ your grandfather. He's your great-uncle." She pulled him closer and whispered in his ear. "Can you say that again. Yes, that's it. Just like that. _Perfect_." Frerin turned around and went right to Thorin, tugging on his tunic. The king looked down at the littlest prince yanking on his hem and shot a wary glance at Areen.

"Grunkle Thorn! Grunkle Thorn!"

The group looked over to see Areen looking gleeful and Thorin rather ... disgrunkled. Kili tried with all his might but couldn't help snickering. Fili didn't try. Della didn't know what to make of it.

"I hope that doesn't stick," Thorin said with his hands on his hips.

"Well, that depends on how nice you are to me," she countered with an impish smile. Kili and Fili stared wide-eyed before laughing so hard they struggled to breathe. Della looked on aghast.

"Oh, that one's priceless," Fili said. "I think Areen takes that round, Thorin."

"If I concede will you make him stop?" Thorin asked. He tried to hold on to the least bit of irritation but couldn't in the face of her innocent teasing.

"I want to say I'll think on it," she said, "but then again I wouldn't want your subjects wondering what a 'grunkle' is." Calling Frerin over, she whispered in his ear. He nodded and cupped her ear to whisper something back. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Names aren't nice. I stand corrected, Frerin."

"_Sweetheart_."

"Sweetheart. Yes, you're right. I won't do it again."

"Promise?"

"I promise, sweetheart."

Flushed with pride, Frerin puffed out his chest, and marched back over to Thorin.

"_Grandpa_ Thorn," he said with all the pomp of Erebor's herald announcing honored guests.

"My favorite title," Thorin said before scooping him up in his arms.

"I should have known that all Durins are honorable to the bone," Areen said. "You've taught me a good lesson, sweetheart." Thorin saw her pride and delight in Frerin showing clearly through her blind eyes and wondered if that wasn't sight of another kind. He too was proud of Frerin's strength of character and shifted him in his arms. Areen followed the sound, stepped close to Thorin, and felt for Frerin's face.

"You are a worthy heir, my sweetheart." She pressed up on her toes and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek at the same time Thorin bent his head to kiss him on the top of the head. From where Fili and Della stood it almost seemed like Thorin and Areen were kissing each other.

"You know," Fili said leaning over to Della, "that almost looks like ... no, that's preposterous." Della looked askance but said nothing. Frerin squirmed to get down, and once on the floor held out his hand for Areen to take, but Kili stepped in his way.

"We must be going now," he said, and Fili stopped Frerin's immediate protests. "I want to take Areen to the private park."

"She hasn't seen it yet?" Della asked. "I would have thought ..."

"The time wasn't right, Della," Kili said with emphasis, "but now that we aren't distracted by, er, other matters, we can enjoy it."

The others watched Kili and Areen walk away arm in arm with Sky trotting at her side.

"He's going to ask her," Fili said with a big smile. "By Durin, he's going to ask her," and they watched the couple grow smaller in the distance. "What do you think, Della?"

"She's more irreverent than I'm used to, but she's brave, loyal, and devoted to those she loves, and if she loves Kili, he'll be loved well indeed. I'll have to get used to her sense of humor though."

"Thorin?"

The King of Erebor didn't speak but kept his eyes on the pair until they disappeared from sight.

"Thorin?

After a moment he blinked, and his eyes refocused.

"Mmm? Yes, I agree. She needs to stay, aye. No matter what, she _needs_ to stay."

* * *

**OK, in the next chapter one major thing will be decided. Oh, and if anyone's confused about "Grunkle," it's from the cartoon show "Gravity Falls." Grunkle is much more fun to say than great-uncle. Please review!**


	37. Chapter 37

**Okay, I know many of you will be disappointed, so I'll apologize now for destroying some feels , but it's time to make a couple of things clear. Please don't hate me, and I hope you'll still read the story and review even if you aren't happy with the outcome. **

* * *

**Chapter 37**

_"He's going to ask her," Fili said with a big smile. "By Durin, he's going to ask her," and they watched the couple grow smaller in the distance. "What do you think, Della?"_

_"She's more irreverent than I'm used to, but she's brave, loyal, and devoted to those she loves, and if she loves Kili, he'll be loved well indeed. I'll have to get used to her sense of humor though."_

_"Thorin?"_

_The King of Erebor didn't speak but kept his eyes on the pair until they disappeared from sight._

_"Thorin?_

_After a moment he blinked, and his eyes refocused._

_"Mmm? Yes, I agree. She needs to stay, aye. No matter what, she _needs _to stay."_

* * *

"Come. This way."

Kili took my hand and laid it over his arm, and my moist palm stuck to his sleeve. Every clack of my heels against the stone floor moved me closer to the answer that would decide my future. At least part of it. I could tell that much by Della's quick inhale and Fili's excited noises. To be honest, I wanted to stay, but Feron stood in the way of an absolute yes. What I had told Thorin I would tell Kili, but it stuck in my throat, and I choked it down. Then again, perhaps Kili decided against me. He seemed willing, but I knew nothing of relationships—at least of this kind. That Feron's declaration shocked me proved I had no intuition about such things.

Kili walked me for some distance, and I heard the murmurings of respect for him as we passed and even some for me. Sky trotting ahead might have helped some in their decisions of my worthiness, but I would take it no matter where it came from. I listened for mutters of curses and comments about my blindness but didn't hear anything of the kind. Perhaps our happy rescue in the cave put those to rest temporarily. I wasn't fooled though. The scales could tip at any time against me, but on Kili's arm I moved more freely than I ever had or could at home. No guards here watching for something to report, no spying eyes around every corner. I didn't realize until father left what a burden that was, but now a burden lifted. I stood a little taller.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You'll find out soon enough. Anyway, I'm taking you somewhere that'll engage one of your senses."

"Taste?"

He laughed loud enough for it to echo down the hall.

"I should have known you'd go there. No, and not smell either. This is a different kind of park. I think you of all people will appreciate it fully."

I couldn't imagine what he meant but after several hallways and a flight of stairs, he said we had arrived. A strange sound, no, strange sounds made me lean forward and turn my ear toward the door.

"What is that?"

"I think you'll like it."

A sentry acknowledged Kili with a respectful, "My lord prince," and opened the door for us. A wall of sound hit me, and I struggled to take it in. Sky whined and pulled on the leash.

"Easy, Sky. Lie down, girl. That's it."

I patted and stroked her ears until she calmed. Drums and tinkles and ringing tones echoed off different materials to produce the most marvelous harmonics. I didn't need to close my eyes, but I did anyway and swayed to the ethereal melodies that flowed ... ah, _flowed!_

"Water?"

"Yes," Kili said. "Water on crystal, flowing through silver fountains, and falling on vibrating plates make the music. Thirty fountains of different sizes and shapes."

"Amazing! Lord of Silver Fountains, eh?"

"Yes," and he chuckled. "It took some time getting it cleaned and running."

"Will you describe it for me?"

"Of course. It's a black granite chamber with a vaulted ceiling carved into a cone to amplify the sound."

He went on to describe the many fountains on different levels. Lovely shapes of diamond-cut crystal threw rainbows of light on the floor. Those fountains produced the high, fluting tones. Silver bowls of different sizes and polished to the gloss of mirrors chimed the lower tones, and water pattering on various thicknesses of embossed silver sheets accounted for the sound of drums. Each station had scale versions for people to play at their leisure, and Kili said that visitors could make more music by wetting their fingers and running them around the rims of thin crystal bowls placed on lower levels.

"You mean people can walk up and make their own music? Just join in?"

"Yes, but not that everyone has an ear for it," he said. "Also, singing hasn't been allowed since Bofur came in after having a few too many pints and did a song and dance atop one of the platforms.

"What happened?"

"Bombur and Bifur hauled him off and threw him in the central drain, but that was after others with more discerning ears pelted him with the coins they meant to throw in the largest fountain. He sobered up quick enough and even made a little money. What do you think?"

_What did I think?_ I could stay there for days and still not fathom all the layers in this ever-changing but intricate symphony. Years ago, father forbade music and loud noises at home because he said it interrupted his important thoughts. I really think he did it because I was supposed to have my first recital on the flute when I was eight. Mother was so proud of my progress and had invited friendly lords and their families. I was thrilled and practiced almost hourly in the music room for the occasion. Of course, I should have known father would never have allowed it to happen. Still, I was crushed when he cancelled my performance and made over the music room as an extra book room for himself. Then came his edict. Furious, I disobeyed it with pleasure and followed him around just out of sight and blew on blades of grass between my thumbs, something Tildur had taught me. Father sent his minions out day after day with orders to shoot the squawking bird on sight. He didn't think much that month. One of my happier memories.

"This is one of favorite places already. I might never leave."

"It is for many," Kili said. "Thorin's too in fact. It's his favorite public room. After we completed work on the main infrastructure, Thorin ordered the music park set to rights. He said it was important for our people to have lives worth living and not just places to live."

"He told me he played the harp."

"That's true. He used to play for us when we were young. He tried to teach us, but too often we neglected to practice. To tell the truth we weren't interested. We were more interested in sword practice."

"I love music and played an instrument until father made me stop, but this is beyond anything I've ever heard. You were fortunate to grow up with music."

"Thorin still plays for us from time to time. He can never turn Frerin down."

"Few can. I was surprised when he told me."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I thought only court ladies played something so delicate."

"Don't let Thorin hear you say that. He loves his harp, and he's more skilled than anyone I know. Sometimes, I think he forgets he has an audience when he plays because he closes his eyes."

"He doesn't have to look?"

"No, he closes his eyes and plays what he feels. It's like he speaks through the harp. It's something to hear."

My throat tightened. I'd never heard a more beautiful description of music. I saw that for Thorin, his eyes closed and away in his mind someplace peaceful and untouched by war and calamity. What a comfort in troubled times, and he had more than most.

"He doesn't play as much as he used to though," Kili said. "Let's go this way. Perhaps now that he reclaimed Erebor he doesn't feel the need."

We walked through the sound for it was all around us, and then something occurred to me.

"Where is everyone?"

"I had the chamber cleared so we could talk. Let's sit over here." He led me to a bench and I sat on my sweaty palms. We made small talk for a minute or two, but I sensed anxiety rising—at least mine. We chatted without direction before he took a deep breath and turned to me.

"Areen, over these past weeks I've come to feel very strongly toward you. You've been wonderful and kind enough to overlook my behavior at first. That you weren't interested in marriage either also appealed to me after I got over my resentment. Too many want the connection but not me for myself. I love your spirit and compassionate heart. I love you. You feel like kin already, and I'm not the only one to think so. I know Feron's here to take you away, but I want you to stay to stay, to stay for me. I want that with all my heart, and I hope you do too. Forgive me for coming right to the point. Perhaps I should have impressed you with poetry or flowery words first, but I think I understand you well enough now to know you'd be embarrassed."

"True. Thank you."

"So, I want you to stay, despite all that's happened. I feel terrible about all you've been through, and I understand if you want to leave after being attacked by orcs and buried alive, but I hope you can look past that."

I couldn't help it and snorted before giggling outright. It was Kili through and through to say something like that. We laughed together and I pulled my hands out from under my thighs. How could anyone not love Kili?

"Why aren't you married, Kili? With so many to choose from, there must have been someone who caught your eye? I can't tell how many live here, but with all the noise I'm guessing thousands. I know we talked about this before, but really, wasn't there anyone?"

If I thought I'd given him pause, I was wrong. He answered without hesitation, his voice low and thoughtful.

"Hundreds, aye, but not one for me. Don't think Uncle and Fili didn't try though. Mahal, Fili set up so many 'chance encounters' that I couldn't go anywhere without a father and daughter waiting for me around every corner."

I heard him run at least one hand through his hair. I'd never encountered a situation like his. Since father never took any interest in my welfare, I was freed from such machinations until he packed me off to Erebor, but to face fawning fathers and daughters for days on end would tax anyone's patience.

"It was funny and harmless for the first week or so," he said, "but they grew more persistent and my patience ran out after the time I had come out of a long meeting on trade negotiations, and I needed to take care of personal business, if you take my meaning. I was stopped so many times I grew quite uncomfortable and had to run and hide in various spots until I could get to the loo."

"Did you make it there?"

"_Barely_," he said with a chuckle, "and I think I knocked down a few poor dwarves in my haste. Another time I was sick and heading for the infirmary but was intercepted time and again. I was in a foul mood that day, and my manners weren't the best."

"So what happened?"

"I lost a full supper on the new, jewel-studded shoes of the lady waiting outside the infirmary with her father. Not on purpose, of course, but after that Uncle and Fili left me alone for a time. Then they started inviting outsiders."

"Like me."

He took my hand and squeezed it.

"Like you, but you belong here. Like you were meant to be here, and I want you to stay." He scoffed then and made a sound of disgust. "I can't believe I shared those stories now of all times."

A series of self-deprecating mutters followed until I put my hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze.

"It's all right. Thorin said your mother died soon after coming and then Fili married Della. Those must have been lonely times."

"I don't deny it. I'm surprised he shared about mother though. Thorin usually keeps everything close to the chest."

Not with me, I thought, not after all we'd gone through, but there wasn't any point in mentioning that now.

"So what do you say?" he asked. He took my hand and kissed it. "Will you stay for me?"

"Is this a formal proposal?"

"It is. Mahal, I'm not doing this well, am I? I should have prepared something after all, but I want you to have no doubts. I love you, Areen. I understand your struggle, but I wanted to speak my piece before Feron is cleared. I know he's a lifelong friend and that you probably feel beholden to him in many ways. He's impressive, I admit, but he can't offer you the life I can. If you're not ready to answer, I can wait, but I want you to know my mind."

"Kili, forgive me. I can't answer until I speak to Feron. I owe him that, but what about the others? Are they in favor? I don't want them unhappy about this."

"They're thrilled, each and every one. Don't worry about them, and perhaps this will help you make your decision."

He leaned closer and cupped my face with his hands, rubbing one cheek with his thumb.

"May I kiss you?"

I nodded, and he closed the distance. Warm, firm lips touched mine, but after only a second he pushed me away. No, we pushed each other away. My hand touched my lips, and I almost wiped them off but remembered my manners as the last second. I slid back on my side of the bench and heard him sliding back on his. After shocked gasps from both of us, we talked over each other in our confusion and embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," I said, "did I …?"

"No! No," he said, "forgive me. I …"

I didn't know the look on his face, but I knew the look on mine. Shock and repulsion.

"Kili? What happened I don't understand."

"Nor I. Mahal, it was wonderful, _should_ have been wonderful at any rate."

"What happened then?"

He didn't answer. We sat there saying nothing, my nervous excitement turned to nausea, and neither of us understanding what had happened. I floundered, wringing my hands and fidgeting. I worried I'd offended him. I had no experience in kissing, but I felt it too. Something was wrong like we broke some law of nature. My chin quivered, and my eyes smarted with tears of mortification.

"Kili?"

"Give me a minute to figure it out," he said. He turned to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "But it isn't you. Mahal, I don't understand. It's like I just kissed my …." He sucked in a lungful of air, and his hand dropped from my shoulder. His breathing changed like he was trying to hold something in, but then it came, a soft chuckling that grew louder with every breath. I felt for him and elbowed him in the side.

"This isn't funny! What's going on?"

Still laughing, he took my hand and kissed it.

"I love you, Areen, and I'll take a leap and say you love me too. Like I said, you're kin, although not the kind I expected."

"What do you mean?" I tapped my fingers on my mouth, and he pulled out a cloth and wiped my lips, his amusement trailing off with noises of mirth.

"I know you wanted to," he said, his voice overflowing with merriment and affection. "Allow me."

After wiping my mouth, he took tender care in dabbing my tears away, chuckling all the while. I didn't know what the joke was, but I grew angrier by the second.

"Why are you laughing?" I slapped his hands down. He took no offense and patted my knee.

"Can you think of another kin relationship that might account for our responses?"

"What? What do you mean? _Oh_ ..." It all made sense now. The easy camaraderie, the strong connection, the fun but harmless teasing.

"Oh, indeed." He closed my mouth with his finger and pulled me in for a cheerful hug and kiss on the top of my head.

"Are you, are you disappointed, Kili?"

"Mmm, surprised more like." His voice changed. "Are _you_ disappointed, Areen?"

"No, I guess not, not if things can stay the same between us, but this changes my being here, doesn't it?"

He made an urgent noise and pushed closer. They wouldn't want me to stay. Not after this. I would leave with Feron as soon as he was ready, and a whimper escaped before I could catch it.

"Don't cry, Areen, don't cry. I won't take back what I said. Somehow you belong here, like you're meant to be here for some reason. Mahal, I don't understand it myself, but I know it's true, and I want you stay."

"But there's no reason to now."

"If you leave with Feron, I'll understand, but if you want to stay we'll find a way. I promise you we will. You can be our cultural ambassador from the Grey Mountains if nothing else."

With mutual snorts, we collapsed against each other and laughed the weirdness away.

"That might work if we had any culture to speak of!"

After our laughter died out, I hugged him around the waist and laid my head on his shoulder. He kissed my forehead. I did love him. I loved him very much. No matter what happened, I would always love him, and he would always love me. We had found our places in each other's lives—not the ones we expected, but lifelong ones nonetheless.

"I love you, Kili."

"And I love you, Areen. So we have an understanding after all?" He nudged me and I bumped back. That felt right. Looking back on our relationship, we'd always been this way, at least when we allowed our true selves to show. Once Kili got over his anger, and I got over, well, father.

"Yes, we do," I said. "You know, now that I think on it, I don't _have_ to leave with Feron for the Iron Hills. I can go home if need be. We all can."

His unhappy grunt told me his opinion before he opened his mouth. Of course, his opinion developed from father's behavior and my misery, so he naturally wouldn't approve.

"We don't want you going back."

"We?"

He removed his arm from around my waist and turned me to face him.

"Thorin told us, me and Fili, that is, what happened to your arm, and what happened to your mother."

Breath hissed between my teeth at the memory, and tears returned to my eyes.

"Areen, Areen, hear me out. It'll only get worse if you go home. Now that you know, there's nothing to restrain him."

"Our other honorable lords."

"They aren't enough, and they wouldn't see what goes on at home. You could marry Feron there, but how long before you and your friends are discovered doing what you've been doing? You know his secret now, and he won't let that go. You know he'll catch you out one day. It's only a matter of time."

His words depressed me, and we sat there deflated, our lovely moment punctured by father. The true curse of my life. I felt wretched and put my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands while Kili rubbed my back. What to do? Perhaps leaving with Feron for the Iron Hills was the right answer after all. I didn't know, but I did know someone whose wisdom I never doubted.

"I will ask Lord Vinn for advice. I trust his counsel."

Kili sat up and slapped his knees. "We should ask Thorin too. He was so angry when you told him your story I thought he'd spit fire. He'll come up with something, but in the meantime I want you to stay. In fact, I want all your friends to stay. It's not safe for any of them to go back now. Mahal, what _accident_ might befall you and your friends on the way home? Besides, no one's on the roads now because of the plague."

I struggled to push through my sudden depression and shake off father's taint. A soft kiss on my cheek helped, and I smiled with the slightest quivers of my lips. Scooting closer, he chafed my arms to warm me up.

"Nothing needs doing today," he said. "So is all well between us?"

"Yes, completely. Do we tell the others though?"

"Mmmm, I think it's enough to tell them we have an understanding"

"You know they're not going to take it the way we mean it."

"Do they have to?" Oh, he was an imp, but he had good cause with this one.

"Will this make up for the loo and puke incidents?"

"Among others."

"You know, I wouldn't mention those the next time you ask someone to marry you."

"I won't."

"So will they take the bait, do you think?"

"For a few days anyway."

"They only did this because they love you."

"I know, but after months of harassment, I think they can handle a few days."

"If you say so, but let's keep this in the family. I don't want to mislead my friends."

"'In the family.' That sounds right to me. Very well, but let's make it count in the meantime. You act thoughtful and fighting your growing feelings, and I'll play the determined suitor. Mahal, they might even try to help me."

"Don't you dare let them! I don't want them embarrassed!"

"You drive a hard bargain, but I agree," and with that he helped me up and took my arm with a comic flourish.

"Now, Areen, let us find our family so we can inform them of our _understanding_, pending your decision on Feron."

"I wish I could see the look on Thorin's face!"

"I'll be my descriptive best."

"Not too thick or they'll catch on."

"True. Shall we then?"

Doing our best to act like a couple falling in love, we glided out of the room arm in arm, stifling our laughter along the way.

* * *

**So there it is. No messy triangles of competing lovers filled with angst. I hope at least everyone is satisfied that Kili's heart remains intact and that he and Areen are happy together in their own way. Please review and let me know if I pulled it off!**


	38. Chapter 38

**Happy New Year! 2017 is here, and here's the first chapter of the year. It's sort of a build up to things coming, but I hope you like it just the same. Reviews are appreciated as always, and thank you guests for writing in and making your voices heard! **

* * *

**Chapter 38**

"Let's get you cleaned up, my love," Della said to Frerin, and she held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. "You sorely need a bath."

"I'm, I'm …" The little dwarfling puzzled and poked and prodded his bottom lip while trying to find the right word. "I'm …" The others watched him with various degrees of amusement but were unwilling to step in until he scowled and pursed his lips.

"Filthy?" Fili supplied.

"Fithy! I'm fithy! Bubbles? Please, bubbles?" Fili never could resist his son's wide, pleading eyes, even after Della told him she'd caught Frerin practicing his waifish, pitiful look in his bedroom mirror.

"Of course," Fili said with a smile and stroke of his son's head. "Thank Mahal for that bubble soap," he added in an aside to his wife. "Remind me again to grovel at Dori's feet. Remember not so long ago? Trying to get him in the tub was like wrestling a bear cub."

Frerin bounced on his toes and pumped his fists while Thorin looked on with a fond smile but, in truth, he felt at loose ends with Kili and Areen gone and Fili and Della taking Frerin back to their chambers. A sullen melancholy descended, something he hadn't felt since the quest. Surprised and annoyed to feel it now, he ticked through his schedule to see if any important business needed his attention, but nothing came to mind. He'd finished everything pressing the night before, and he detested creating work to keep busy. In fact, he often tabled petitions from long-winded counselors because they belabored details to look busy and important. Flexing his hands, he cast about for something to distract him, but with every passing moment, he grew more irritated.

"What do you say we take the long way around?" Fili asked. "I need to stretch my legs."

Della wasn't fooled by his suggestion though and wagged a finger at his carefully neutral face, but she understood him wanting to find out any news and was curious herself.

"You mean the way by the fountains?"

"We don't _need_ to go that way, but I know how much you like the music …"

"You won't eavesdrop, Fili," Thorin said stepping closer. "It's not seemly, and we don't want to scare Areen off."

Fili looked from his uncle to his wife who shook her head at his obvious eagerness before smiling and linking her arm through his.

"I need a good walk, so I'm happy to accompany you."

"Coming, Uncle?"

Thorin contemplated his options. He had no reason to head in that direction, none at all. In fact, if he needed something to divert him, he could head back to the roost to see if any messages arrived from the Iron Hills, or he could work on his notion to place railings along the stairways. He could use the time to draw up plans. Such a thing required considerable attention.

"Coming." If anyone noticed them walking faster than usual, no one commented on it.

* * *

Meanwhile, Kili held Areen's arm closer, and Sky walked alongside without direction. Periodically, she attempted to edge in between Kili and her mistress, but a sharp command left her sulking at Areen's side.

"She's miserable," Kili said. "We can't have that."

"But it won't look intimate otherwise."

"Take my hand. That's more romantic, and hold the leash with the other." He lavished kisses on her wrist and wouldn't let her pull away until they came upon a cadre of courtiers. After making reverence, two of them stared at Kili's tight hold on Areen's hand instead of minding their way and smacked into a thick column.

"Oops," Kili said under his breath.

"What was that noise?" Areen asked.

"Just a few pompous courtiers walking into solid objects after seeing us together." He snickered and looked over his shoulder to see them helping each other up and brushing off their elaborate robes.

"You're going to make someone a wonderful husband someday, but, really, everyone will gossip."

"Isn't that what we want?"

"Keep it in the family, remember?"

"Oh, right, I forgot."

"A wonderful but _absent-minded_ husband."

"No one's perfect. Ah! Speaking of, here comes the family. They didn't waste any time."

A determined Kili and blushing Areen walked up to Fili, Della, and Thorin who slowed as they approached the hall.

"Did you enjoy the fountains?" Della asked while looking for hints in her face. Areen sidled up to Kili who patted her hand with a wide smile.

"Very much. Thank you, Della. I'd like to go back. I couldn't take it all in in such a short time."

"We will go back as often as you like, my lo … uh, Areen," Kili said. Eyes swung from Areen to Kili and back again. Kili dropped his eyes and played like he'd overstepped while Areen forced a tight smile. Thorin's eyes narrowed, but before anyone spoke up, Bofur walked up with Bifur and called out to her.

"There you are, Areen!" Bofur said. "Slif's been working on treats for Sky and wants her to come down to try his latest batch. I think these ones will do the trick. Oh, did we interrupt something important?"

"No more than anyone else," Kili replied with a pointed look at his brother, but Areen hushed him and greeted Bofur with a wide smile.

"Not at all, Bofur. Kili, would you mind if I take her down to the kitchens? The poor thing's been neglected since we ..."

"Of course, but I have a day planned for us, so come right back." Kili looked on Areen with unmistakable pride and regard. Fili and Della grinned at each other, and Thorin took a deep breath and paused to examine a minute chip in a wall carving. He'd have that fixed as soon as may be.

"Come on then, my lovely lasses," Bofur said, squiring Areen and Sky away. She turned back to Kili after only a few steps.

"Where shall I meet you?"

"I'll find you. I'll _always_ find _you, _but you'll need to change into something with tight sleeves first. You have a pretty blue day gown that will do. I'll meet you at your chambers."

Blushing again, she ducked her head with another shy smile and allowed Bofur to lead her away. Fili and Della watched her walk away while Thorin's eyes fixed on Kili who looked down the hallway with a dreamy smile. Before they rounded the corner, Areen turned back with a wave and then disappeared.

Without losing a second, Fili turned to his brother.

"Well?" he demanded with his hands open.

"Well, what?" Kili enjoyed his brother's agitation too much, and Della rolled her eyes while Thorin stared, trying to decipher the outcome by the smallest changes in Kili's expression.

"You know _what_," Fili said. "What happened? Is everything settled?"

"You want me to spill the details?"

"Down to the last _bean!_"

"Very well." They crowded closer. "She wants to stay."

"With you?"

"Of _course_ with me!" He mocked swooned, and Fili chuckled, all tension gone. "But she needs to talk to Feron first before promising anything. She owes him that."

"But she'll stay for certain?" Thorin said, pushing between Della and Fili who hastily moved aside. "Feron won't talk her out of it?"

Kili's lips pressed together, and he looked pained and less certain of himself.

"It's not _entirely_ settled in my favor. She does love Feron in her way. For all her life and his, he's served almost as her personal guard, and of course they're very close. _Very_ close. I can only hope that loyalty doesn't compel her to accept him."

"But you did your best to convince her to stay?" Thorin asked with his brows almost touching his eyes. "You made every possible argument? You left nothing out?"

Fili and Della puzzled at his insistence, but then again he insisted on bringing her to Erebor in the first place.

"Is he trying to make up for his earlier blunder?" Della whispered to Fili.

"That's as good an answer as any, Del," Filli whispered back, "but Kili's not helping him out any. Stringing him along, I'd say."

"Well, after everything, he might feel the need to needle a little."

"Fair enough," Fili said, and they turned to watch their verbal sparring.

"I was _most_ convincing, Uncle," Kili said. "I offered her a life she couldn't hope to have otherwise." He grinned triumphantly, but the others cringed. That was the weakest reason anyone could offer and might even be considered patronizing in the extreme. Thorin's face fell, and he tossed his head back and arched his neck to look up unseeing at the ceiling.

"I hope that's not _all_ you said, brother," Fili said, his pique obvious. Della grabbed his arm and motioned him to settle down. In her mind, Kili walked a razor-thin edge after Areen's experiences at Erebor and with another a serious suitor downstairs to boot.

"Don't go so hard on him," she said. "He has more challenges than most," but Fili refused to budge, and pulled his arm away.

"Mahal, you practically insulted her! Treating her like some pauper who should be grateful for your generosity!"

Far from upset, Kili grinned and shushed his brother, not the least ashamed for riling him. Della looked pensive, Thorin agitated and struggling to hide it, and Fili outraged.

"No, of course I didn't." He rocked back and forth on his heels, vastly pleased with himself. "Would she have wanted to stay if I had? I know what I'm about." He paused for dramatic effect. "I told her I love her. Uncle, I can't thank you enough for bringing her here." He heaved an expansive sigh before turning more serious. "I'm sorry I gave you so much trouble at first. It was rude and disrespectful to both you and Areen. I can only say that I'm grateful she's forgiven me."

Thorin waved his hand, impatient with his response.

"There's nothing to forgive, but how did she respond? How did she answer you?"

"She said she loves me too. Very much in fact."

"Ah!" Thorin nodded with his eyes on the ground before straightening up and facing him with a genuine smile. "Indeed." He put his palms on Kili's shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "I'm very happy for you."

"We've become so close I can tell her anything." Kili thought back to the puke and loo incidents and laughed with his head back. "And I do."

"And she still wants you?" Fili asked dumbfounded.

"I do have _some_ admirable qualities, you know."

"Of course you do," Della said after a hard look at her husband. She stepped forward for a hug which Kili supplied with open arms.

Thorin and Fili nodded with pleased smiles. Their Kili was happy at last, and that outweighed all other considerations.

"Now let's help her make the right decision," Fili said.

"No, no, don't interfere. It'll only end up in embarrassment and humiliation."

"You don't trust us to be discreet?"

"Mahal, no! Have you forgotten those fathers and daughters you tipped off?" Fili looked sheepish.

"He's right," Della said. "I never favored that scheme."

"It was Thorin's idea."

The king turned with his hands on his hips.

"Hordes chasing him around Erebor was _not_ my idea, but I'm happy for you, Kili. You deserve her." With a nod and final pat on his shoulder, Thorin winked at Frerin and took his leave.

"Where are you going?"

"I've some things to attend to. Della, make sure you get your rest and not tire yourself out with Frerin's bath. Fili here can attend to that." Della curtsied in response and, with a final nod, he walked away.

"So that means you're on, brother. King's orders."

"You don't think you might spare a few minutes to help me out, Kili?"

"And leave my lady waiting? You're on your own. Just make sure you have enough bubble soap."

"Della?"

"I believe we used most of it up on the last bath."

* * *

Thorin strode through the hallways and let the news wind around his mind. Kili's grin eased his burden of guilt and worry, but after an initial thrill from the news, his spirit didn't lighten like he thought it would. Instead, a strange wistfulness left him out of sorts. He should be delighted, but he couldn't hold on to it and even recalling Kili's happiness did nothing more than provoke a wan smile. He didn't understand it, but he itched to punch through doors he passed and even stopped to flex his fist at one particularly elegant entryway.

"My Lord? Do you need anything?"

Startled out of his thoughts, he shook his head at the young guard quivering in front of him.

"You're new to your post, aren't you? Dnorr, is it?"

"Yes, my King!" The green recruit straightened and beamed at the recognition. "Do you ... require anything?"

"No, thank you. Go about your business."

"Aye, my Lord!" and he bustled away with a newly important air.

Thorin needed nothing save for some activity to distract him, but punching through doors wouldn't serve. His subjects would think him mad, as well as wasting finely carved doors, but weapons training always lifted his mood. He hoped to find a sparring partner to train with and headed to the Hall of Armaments. A carved war ax and broad sword crossed over the entrance. He stopped to look up and noticed the elegant curve of the ax head and how the blade edge gleamed brighter to denote sharpness. The grain of the oak handle could pass for real wood if not for its color, and he spied a carefully carved knothole just at the grip. He tilted his head. The ax head had runes incised. He never noticed them before.

_Last Kiss_

He turned his attention to the fearsome, double-edged sword and traced with his eyes the angular design with all its intricate edges. Smiling, he imagined Areen running her hands along the grooves, her expression brightening as she figured out its shape. He most enjoyed the moments when recognition dawned, and she stroked and patted the carvings in greeting.

_She would love these._

"My Lord?"

Thorin turned to see two guards standing at attention with curious expressions. They bowed at once and then looked over his head up on the wall to see if anything was amiss.

"Do you need anything, my Lord?"

"No, but I commend your attention. Go about your business."

Lingering no longer, Thorin walked into the chamber and nodded to those cleaning the weapons and sparring rings. They startled at their king being in their midst at such a time and clutched their mops, brooms, and polishing cloths.

"Your Majesty!" As one they bowed low. An old dwarf stepped forward.

"Do you need anything, my Lord? Shall we clear a ring for you?"

Thorin blinked at what was becoming the theme of the day.

"No, no, although you have my thanks for making this hall the envy of other clans." To the last, they stood straighter and lifted their chins. "Go about your business."

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

Thorin took a quick look at the day's schedule. He was between training times, and the roster of sparring partners had no vacancies. He could, of course, order a soldier or guard to stand down and take his place, but he wouldn't. Dwarves coveted training slots like the best seats at a feast and never missed their scheduled times. He wouldn't deprive another from venting his frustration or capitalizing on a welcome burst of energy. Disappointed, he looked around the chamber and saw racks of bows lining the walls. Target practice, while not as strenuous, also required strength and concentration, and he felt a sore need to refocus. Fingering through his personal rack of bows, he chose one made of yew and tested its string. Satisfied, he slung a quiver of fine fir arrows on his shoulder and headed off. Entering the archery range, he noticed that someone had altered its layout and added a number of unusual features including bells with strings attached. He checked the day's schedule again, but nothing accounted for what he saw, although he noticed that several others had checked off times a little later on.

_Very well. I have the range to myself for the moment. It will suffice. _

Fitting an arrow, Thorin took aim at the largest, center target and shot into the third ring. Grumbling, he nocked another arrow and let fly to hit even further out. The third arrow landed just outside the bull's eye. Thorin looked around the empty chamber and wondered if target practice was a bad idea after all.

_Maybe the figures instead of the target for another go. _

He nocked another arrow and aimed at a leering wooden orc off to the left. The arrow nearly took its left eye out. Thorin grinned, and his dissatisfaction eased. Before long his aim turned orcs, deer, bears, wolves, and several elves into wooden pincushions with eyes, hearts, and throats having the most arrows protruding. Only the elves and orcs had arrows sticking out of more sensitive places.

"Uncle, what are you doing here?"

Thorin swung around to see Kili holding Areen's hand. Both had bows in their hands and quivers of arrows on their shoulders. The meaning of the bells and strings and arrangement of the targets now made sense.

"Bells to guide her aim?"

"Sharp as always, Uncle."

"I'll leave you both to it then."

Smiling, Areen stepped in his way.

"This is the second time today. Why must you leave? I'm sure I need more than Kili here to do this properly. I'd be happy to have your help."

Thorin frowned, remembering Kili's insistence on going it alone, but perhaps he needed his help only in the technical sense. Even so, Kili was a much better shot.

"You don't need me here when you have Kili, the best archer in Erebor."

"True enough, Uncle, but I learned from you, if you recall, and you're much better at explaining the finer points."

"Perhaps," he said, still edging to the door, "but I see now that you set this up as part of your day together, and I would be in the way."

"In the _way?_" Areen looked incredulous. "In what realm would you _ever_ be in the way? Well, of course, there's dressing, bathing, and all that, but besides those you would _never_ be in the way." She reached out for him, but he wouldn't help her. This was Kili's time. Areen stopped and turned to where she thought he was.

"I'm not good at this. Please stay. I _need_ you to stay."

_Need_.

His lips quirked and a small smile softened his mien. With a jerk of his head toward the targets, Kili urged him to agree.

"I could use your help, Thorin."

His glum mood gone, Thorin stood taller and took the hand held out to him. Areen tugged on his arm and he led her laughing to the first target.

"What I want to know," Kili said, "is how your friends shoot so well at speed."

"It's a good story, but I'll let Feron tell you that."

"If I can get him away from you!"

Thorin looked from Areen to Kili, alarmed at her breezy comment and Kili's equally breezy response, but neither seemed uncomfortable, so he let it go.

"I have more letters."

"And I have more arrows. Not long now, Areen. So far, all reports are looking good."

* * *

"Looking good so far," Oin said to Feron after replacing his bandage. "You can expect the soreness for some time, and no lifting your arm above your shoulder. I don't want the stitches tearing."

"So that means no dipping Areen for kisses."

"Have I ever done that?"

"No, but not because you didn't want to."

"Leave him alone now," Lord Vinn said, shooing the twins away. He clasped Feron's good shoulder. "How are you feeling, son?"

Feron grimaced at the throbbing ache in his left shoulder and a strange stinging on his side. Still, every hour the pain lessened thanks to Master Oin's thick syrup of a pain killer.

"Better, Father, but my side hurts too, and I didn't notice it before. High up on my right side." Feron motioned to the general location, and his father pulled at his smock to reveal a small puffy, red wound between his arm and shoulder blade.

"Looks like you caught the point of a blade somewhere, son. Probably back at Lake Town."

Feron thought back and nodded at Sella.

"I'll bet it was that time me and that man were cornered by five orcs," she said. "We were goners until Feron came to our rescue."

"You came to a lot of rescues that day, brother," Tildur said with admiration. "How many owe their lives to you?"

"At least 20," Mebla said. She patted her brother's arm, and pride shone in her eyes. "Just about everyone on this trip at one point or other."

"You exaggerate."

"No, she doesn't, son," Lord Vinn said. "I'm proud of you, Feron, of _all_ of you. You are a credit to our people. Now let's see to this cut. Master Oin!" Oin bustled over, and Lord Vinn pulled back the smock. "Unfortunately, the shoulder pain obscured a wound. I'll ask you to see to it too, if you please."

Oin ran light fingers over the small but deep cut and shook his head.

"I need a hot calendula and lavender poultice over here!" He turned back to Feron with concern. "My apologies. We were so concerned about your shoulder, we didn't check for other wounds."

"Don't blame yourself, Master Oin," Lord Vinn said. "You've had your hands full, and he didn't know it himself until now."

"It was never cleaned and should have been stitched, so I want to keep an eye on it for awhile."

Feron's eyes flew open.

"But I'll be released with the others, aye? I'll leave with them?"

Oin couldn't help but chuckle at the young dwarf's obvious thoughts. He'd become fond of Areen's suitor in spite of his loyalty to Kili and thought they would be fast friends if not for the inevitable clash to come. Lord Vinn and those who came with him were honorable, loyal, and amusing. More than once he laughed under his breath at the witty comments that tossed back and forth like a game of hot potato.

"No, they'll keep you here for a freak of nature exhibit, Feron. Pickled in brine. See that tub over there?"

Sella rapped a measuring stick on Tildur's knuckles. He yelped, and she waved it in the air, pleased at her intervention.

"Look what I found and so _flexible_." She held the stick at both ends and bent it into an arc. "So many unexpected uses!"

"That's enough," Lord Vinn said after a wink. "Feron needs to rest."

"He's not going to get that now," Mebla said. "Father look," and they turned to see Lord Boron making his way toward them.

"Say nothing," Lord Vinn whispered before acknowledging Lord Boron's greeting. "Lord Boron, what brings you to our side of the hall?"

"I wasn't aware there were sides," he replied. He waited a beat. "However, I meant to ask after Feron, but I've been much engaged with other matters." He looked back with distaste at his liege but regained his affability with ease.

"My Lord's been distressed," Lord Vinn said, offering nothing to interpret. "Running for our lives with orcs snapping at our heels would upset anyone."

"Of course, of course, but I've been remiss not to thank you, thank you all for saving our lives. If not for you three," and he nodded to Feron, Mebla, and Tildur, "we would not have survived the last attack, and your exploits at Lake Town have been much remarked on by all the guards. It's not too much to say they feel in your debt."

"We did only what anyone would do," Lord Vinn said. Sella, Mebla, and Tildur gathered around him and Feron, presenting a united front. "We expect no gratitude."

"Still," Lord Boron said with an easy smile, "you have mine. You devotion to our people is noble, and your constant care of our queen and lovely princess cheers my heart."

Lord Vinn stared down at the shorter dwarf, knowing something was afoot but not having enough information to make a move. Mebla opened her mouth only to have Sella pinch her arm.

"It is only what any loyal subject of the realm would do."

"No, it is not, and they need your assistance now more than ever."

No one moved, and all expressions shuttered and retreated into wary watchfulness.

"Are you saying they're in harm's way?" Lord Vinn said slowly while keeping hawk eyes on Boron. "Have the Durins not treated Princess Areen well?"

"The Durins are not to blame for what happened." He grimaced at Lord's Vinn clenched fists and stern face. Behind him Feron struggled to push himself up to sitting position and grunted when he put pressure on his shoulder.

"Don't, brother!" Tildur said. He held Feron back and kept his voice low. "Let us take this one. You've done more than your part."

"Feron, please," Sella whispered. "Don't let him rile you."

Lord Boron took a deep breath and continued. "Our sovereign ordered his daughter to deceive the Durins, who reacted predictably once her conditions were discovered ..." Mebla and Sella gasped and grabbed each other's hands. "However, she suffered no hurt from them. Not so from our king. He laid hands on her in my sight." He stopped and worked his jaw back and forth. "He twisted her arm and would not let her go."

"And you did nothing to stop him, Boron?" Lord Vinn's words vibrated with fury. "You stood there and did nothing?"

"It happened so fast. It was then though that I learned he physically mistreats the queen."

"Oh!" Wounded moans came from all of them, and a nearby healer hurried up to see what was wrong, but Lord Vinn waved him away.

"You learned this, _how? _"

"From Areen, I mean the princess, herself," Lord Boron said. His disgust was sincere. "Queen Nyr must have told her before she left. I'm not sure why, but she must have. Of course, I stepped in and prevented him from harming the princess further."

"And you're telling us this now, _why?_"

"I fear for them. I told Lord Torfin as soon as I returned and asked him to ensure the queen's welfare for as long as our lord was in residence, and now I fear for the princess. Our lord bid her to secure a treaty of arms in his absence on pain of punishment, something she was ill-equipped to do."

"I see."

"Something must be done, Vinn. We have an opportunity here to secure our people's future and elevate us in the eyes of all clans. We must make sure the trade agreement succeeds." It appeared clear that whatever plans he had didn't include the Lord of the Grey Mountains. Boron stood on the line of treason and beckoned him to cross. Lord Vinn motioned for everyone to stay silent and follow his lead.

"I'm grieved at the news."

"As am I."

"You've given me much to think on." Lord Vinn kept his expression blank, willing himself not to show any emotion of any kind. Lord Boron watched with a small, speculative smile before their lord's angry voice rose above the crowd.

"I must return," he said, "but I wish to continue this discussion. If you're agreeable, come over to my side."

* * *

**Thank you faithful readers. I hope you continue to follow the story through 2017! And thanks to Painton, who teaches me more about writing with every chapter.**


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapters will be coming slower for awhile since I'm doing a full-time internship before I graduate from school in May. I wanted to write more here, but I figured that you all would be happier with something a bit shorter now than something more complete a lot (lot!) later. I hope I'm right. **

* * *

**Chapter 39**

Archery practice was fun for the first 20 minutes. Kili and Thorin seemed happy by their free and frequent chortles at my hapless efforts. I stunk. Even with the bells, my blindness made aiming for anything impossible, although arrows landed in the vague vicinity of the targets thanks to Kili's constant ringing. Unfortunately, the noise echoed off the stone, and the only things I hit were the back walls, although Kili was kind to say that I _almost_ nicked one of the targets. He and Thorin cackled like a couple of hens. All in good fun. _Their_ fun. Still, they tried their best to make it a great and safe experience. Kili was never in any danger from my aim though and soft leather finger and arm guards protected my skin from blisters. The only thing a bit … hmm… _uncomfortable __... _no, that wasn't quite the right word. _Unsettling_. Yes, that fit better. The only thing a bit _unsettling_ was Thorin's arms around me helping me with my aim. He kept telling me I wasn't drawing back correctly, that my _posture_ wasn't correct. After nearly an hour of instruction, I was ready to call it a day, but he was a tough taskmaster.

"You need to brace yourself," he said. "Stand tall. Think of an oak tree, and don't move after you direct your aim."

"Rooted to my spot then." I waited for the groans to start, but he didn't give in on my first effort, and I had to admire his intestinal fortitude. Of course, I knew he'd never hold out against me _and_ Kili.

"Hold your arms just so, Areen." He moved in closer and spanned my waist with his hands, righting my stance. He moved next to my shoulders and then my arms, lifting them higher and in line with my target wherever that was. Kili jingled the bells again for encouragement but only succeeded in jangling my nerves.

"This doesn't feel right." I wanted to slouch, slump just the least bit, but he stood behind me with my back flush against his front, holding me in position so I could get used to it. "My muscles are about to pop out of my skin."

"Only because you're not used to it."

"I can't hold it anymore." My arms started shaking, and Thorin had to readjust my aim.

"C'mon, Areen," Kili called out from a target of a deer—he had promised it was the last one, but he had said that three targets ago. He rang the bells again to guide me. "You need to branch out, try new things." Thorin scoffed and, for a fraction of a moment, lowered his guard.

"Shoot him," he whispered, his mustache or beard just teasing my ear. "I'll help you. We'll put him out of my misery." I couldn't keep my composure and the arrow straight at the same time, and I let fly to hear a definite thunk. I hoped it wasn't Kili.

"Good one!" he called out.

"What did I hit?"

"The orc you tried to hit earlier."

"Where?"

"A place covered by breeches if they wore any."

I felt myself blush, and Thorin leaned over.

"I would call that a good shot."

"I missed the deer."

"Shooting an orc in the groin is always a good shot."

He said it matter-of-factly, and I couldn't tell if he was joking or not until I heard the merest snort.

"Oh, you just couldn't hold it, could you? You almost had me fooled."

"Was I trying?"

"Of course you were! So much for your years of diplomatic training!"

I waited for his witty retort. He had an endless supply at his command. I learned that in our time in the mine, and I looked forward to the next zinger, but it didn't come.

"I thought we had gone beyond diplomacy, Areen." His voice was thoughtful. I could even say tender like he was remembering something pleasant. I still felt him behind me, but his stance had changed. He softened. Not a tubby, flabby soft, but more like a close, warm soft. "Do you not think so?"

I didn't know what to make of what he said, but I lowered my bow and turned to face him.

"Where are you?"

He didn't need to ask what I meant, and fingers lifted my chin with the lightest touch of his forefinger on my jaw. His reply didn't sound like banter. His undertone was wistful and not what I had expected. Not sure what to say, I decided to match his tone. Kili was off ringing more bells, but I was done for the moment.

"I need a rest, Kili! Can I have a few minutes?"

"Of course," he called back. "I'll put a few of these away in the meantime." I looked up, and Thorin guided me back to him.

"If you mean we can be honest with each other, we have. That's what you meant, right?"

I thought that would please him, but he seemed unsatisfied and took a breath that almost but not quite sounded like a huff. I didn't know what had come over him, but whatever it was changed the mood of the room like fog rolling in on a clear day.

"Honesty is important in business dealings, aye."

"And between friends."

"Yes, but honesty doesn't require more than truthful answers. It doesn't _share_. You, me, we shared things that … we _shared_ things."

I thought back to the soft whispers with his lips near my ear as we laid on the rough ground, just before we went to sleep. The quiet but deeply felt words spoken in the mine. Five days stuck underground with the prospect of dying together—at least I thought so—opened us up more than we ever would have been above ground. Hmm, maybe that wasn't quite true. Maybe we just needed time, who knows, but others must know what he had shared. Those remembrances must be common knowledge among his family and companions on the quest. He _must_ have spoken of those things. To think that me, an outsider, was the only one who knew those things about him was too weighty to carry. A king, a famous king—almost of legend I had to admit—revealing his heart to me alone? No. It wasn't that. I was most honored though that he took me into his confidence along with those closest to him, but I was sure it was only because of the circumstances.

"So what do you want me to share now? How I answered Kili?'"

"If you wish."

"You mean if _you_ wish."

"He told us he offered you a life you couldn't have elsewhere. I hope you don't consider that an insult."

"What else did he tell you?"

"That he loves you."

I cringed. Our little joke in that moment became a hideous farce that I was sure would end badly. I had to talk to Kili. He needed to tell his family. I wouldn't have them upset or hurt for the world, and I mentally kicked myself for ever agreeing to it in the first place. I wouldn't hurt them. I wouldn't hurt Thorin.

"I told him what I told you. I need to talk to Feron."

"Yes, I know, but I would have you know that Kili is happier than I've seen him in too long a time, and I would not have that taken from him."

It wouldn't, but I couldn't tell him that without misleading him. Besides, Feron was my only option now, and although my heart sank at the thought of leaving Erebor, I had no real choice except to go home with him. Perhaps Thorin could even officiate at the wedding before we left. Father couldn't forbid it then. My insides squelched at the thought though. Of course, I could go home without marrying anyone, but I knew Feron would object, and who else would I marry anyway? Going over the reasonable reasons felt like waiting for a present only to open the box and find socks. My reason for being at Erebor had been dismissed without prejudice despite what Kili had said earlier. Without a fight. Without ... anything.

"You look unhappy. I would not have you so."

I turned my head away and didn't answer him. His hand grazed my cheek.

"Forgive me for pressing you. That wasn't fair."

I needed the conversation over and fast, so I changed the subject.

"How will you meet them when they're released?"

"In the Great Hall as I did when you came. Why? What's wrong? Why that face?"

Ugh, that booming, intimating chamber designed to freeze the blood of all who entered to face the Mighty Thorin Oakenshield and whomever else he decided to invite. I didn't think of it at the time, but there must have been a lot more dwarves there inspecting us when we first trudged in.

"It's all wrong. I don't want a cold, _official_ meeting. You're not strangers."

"Aren't we?"

"Not after battling orcs together, not after all they had gone through to get here. Mahal, Thorin, they almost died! I think they deserve a warmer welcome after staggering through the gate and being locked up in the Hall of Healing for three days with father and his swinish guards."

I heard the chuckle that he tried to hide, but I was indignant, and his amusement made me madder.

"Don't patronize me!" His mood changed in a second.

"I wouldn't think of it, Areen. But you must understand that there are protocols for meeting guests. I can't make an exception for your friends."

"And trading partners."

"And trading partners without making an exception for others. There are formalities to be observed. I'm sure you see that."

"I do, I guess. Yes, I see that. I was just hoping that… no, you're right."

"What were you going to say?"

"It's not important."

"Please."

"I guess I sometimes forget you're the king. _That_ kind of king."

"Forget? _That_ kind of king? What do you mean?" He took a half-step away, and I felt air come between us. In the distance I heard Kili unstringing bells and directing the staff to set things right for those coming in next.

"Well, of _course_ you're the king. It's just that things have changed, and we're ..."

"We're what?"

"You don't feel like the king to me even though I know you are. If they were family meeting you, you wouldn't greet them so formally."

"Of course not. It would be different if I were their king or kin."

"I wish you were."

His surprise was obvious. He jerked like he had been stung, and I shrugged my shoulders. It was true.

"And yours?

"Yes."

"You wish me to take the place of your father?"

Mahal, above! Not for a million worlds! Shock and dismay had thickened his words, but my face twisted with disgust, and after a pause he laughed. I felt him reach for the bow and take it from my hands. After laying it aside, he put one hand on my upper arm and rubbed it up and down before giving it a gentle squeeze. His hand was warm.

"No? What then? You wish to pledge fealty to me and my kingdom? Become my subject?"

"I don't think I'd make a very good one." His hand left my arm, and I thought he folded his arms over his chest, but I wasn't sure. "You know me. I'd always speak my mind."

"That's not a crime."

"I'm wrong to ask, I know, but they've been through so much, and you _are_ king. Doesn't that mean you can change the rules as you see fit?"

He hmmd then and didn't answer. I had pushed to the limit and didn't dare go beyond. Any more would be a challenge to his authority. Besides, I knew whatever decision he made would be fair even if I didn't like it. Even so, I couldn't hold back how I felt, and it must have shown on my face because he inhaled softly and rested his hands on my shoulders. When he finally spoke, his face was much closer.

"What would you have me do?"

* * *

Oin checked and rechecked his patients the next day, poring over them every hour to find the least sign of sickness. All seemed healthy enough, although Feron's deep cut worried him, but he had packed it full of fresh herbs and felt reasonably confident that it would heal in time.

"What do you think?" he asked his aides later that afternoon. They all agreed that they had seen no sign of the plague. No onset of fever, sweating, relentless chills, or the beginnings of delirium. No enlarged pustules forming under the armpits or along the throat or groin. They had felt confident enough that morning to allow fresh garb brought in to much acclaim and relief, but they wanted to wait some hours more to be sure.

"Everything looks good, Master Oin," his chief aide said. "I think we can release them."

"Praise Mahal!" he said. "Alert the king and council. We'll wait on the king's decision."

Listening beyond, Mebla and Sella clapped their hands and bustled back to the others.

"They're letting us go today!" Sella said. She twirled in her new, sumptuous, green velvet gown. "I told you so, Mebla. I knew that's why we got these clothes now. They wouldn't have given them to us if they weren't letting us go soon."

"You win, Sel," Feron said. He had joked that the only reason why their clothes had been replaced by such rich fare was to shut up their lord who continually fumed at wearing a linen smock. "I was glad to get out of that sheet myself."

"Too revealing," Tildur said. "The draft was terrible."

"Oh, so that's why you clipped your gown down the back," Mebla said. "I wondered about that."

"And why you wore two gowns, sister dear."

Lord Vinn raised his hands to stop them before it got out of control, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. He looked behind him to see a couple of guards whittling a couple of orcs out of soap and staring at Mebla and Sella, and his expression turned grave.

"I ordered them to wear two gowns to protect their modesty. I don't trust the guards. They'll be more free here since my lord will be in meetings, and I don't want to give them any reason to approach either of you."

"Thank you, father."

"Thank you, my lord."

"My dear Sella, how many times must I ask you to call me Uncle Vinn? Well, let us discuss our part in what will come. We need to be prepared."

Several hours later, Oin came over to give them the news officially.

"We're releasing you before the feast tonight."

"Excellent!" Lord Vinn said. "Thank you for your tireless efforts on behalf of _all_ our people."

Catching the hint, Oin bowed deeply and grinned.

"My pleasure—_mostly." _He brandished an ornate scroll tied with royal blue ribbon and unrolled it with a flourish. "King Thorin Oakenshield, Princes Kili and Fili, and the Council of Elders bid you welcome to Erebor. To celebrate your courage and daring, the king orders a feast tonight in your honor."

"Most kind," Lord Vinn said.

"In addition," Oin said, "he orders that you be released three hours before the feast to refresh yourselves in the hall reserved for visiting royalty. You will each have your own chambers and four attendants to meet your needs."

Lord Vinn and his family started with surprise. That was favor beyond their rank, and Mebla and Sella turned to stare at each other while Lord Vinn rubbed his chin. Feron and Tildur said nothing.

"Most generous," Lord Vinn said. "Please give the king our sincerest thanks."

"I should add that your lord will be situated elsewhere."

"_Most_ kind," Mebla said.

"Heard about what's been happening down here, did he?" Feron muttered to his brother.

"How could he not?" Tildur answered with a roll of his eyes.

"Well then, let's get ready to meet the famed Durins of Erebor," Lord Vinn said.

* * *

Thorin left his private study of two minds. He felt no qualms about having his scribe deliver his order to the Hall of Healing without delay. The complement from the Grey Mountains deserved that much, although he wished he had ordered Areen's father to the stables to eat with Sky, but she didn't deserve such a fate. Also, after considering what Areen had said, he decided to break with protocol and long-held convention. She was right. He didn't consider her people family, not at all, but they had bled before his gates and been treated infamously although with good reason that they, themselves, understood. After all that, they had earned some leeway, some recognition beyond the usual. Areen's fervent wish for a deeper connection coupled with the painful yearning on her face moved him, he admitted to himself, but sentiment played no part in his decision. It was simple generosity. No more. Besides, no harm would come of one exception, he decided, and what of it if a few councilors protested? No one would think him playing favorites after all that had happened.

No, he was satisfied with his decision, and the more he thought about it, the more he considered it the honorable thing to do. What bothered him though was the uncontained joy on her face when he told her he had changed his mind. She glowed with delight, and her eyes glittered with unshed tears, but her ecstasy worried him. When her friends appeared would she be pulled to their side? Against Kili, against ... Erebor? Soon all would be decided, and he didn't know how he felt about the coming and final choice.

"Thank you, Uncle," Kili said walking up, "but I don't think we'll do that again."

"She'll never improve if she doesn't practice."

"I don't think she enjoys it enough to continue." He hung his head even though Areen had agreed to try. He had wanted to distract her from waiting for her friends, but then he thought of the orc and chuckled. "At least she got off one good shot."

"Can't think of a better place for it to land."

"True."

"Where is she now?"

"Resting. She was tired, and the past few days have been a strain. I walked her back to her quarters. She wants to freshen up before the feast and prepare for her friends."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not really. We know where we stand. Actually, I look forward to meeting them."

Thorin stared at Kili who laughed off his incredulity. He was sure he wouldn't be so casual about a rival coming through the gates. His hackles rose for Kili's sake, and he wondered if his sister-son's easy acceptance masked anxiety. The great bell sounded the hour, and Thorin clapped his hand on Kili's shoulder.

"We stand with you, Kili. We won't interfere, but we'll assist any way you want."

"Thank you but that won't be necessary."

* * *

I meant to talk to Kili, but I forgot and berated myself for letting something so important slip my mind. As soon as possible, I told myself. Now! To dress and get ready.

"What would you like to wear?" Otha asked. I had napped, soaked, bathed, washed my hair, and had it wrapped in rags so it would coil in ringlets when it dried.

"You don't want your hair braided, Areen?" Kitra asked.

"No, just loose with mother's butterfly clip on one side and the ruby necklace. Oh, and Feron's bracelet."

Otha made a noise in the back of her throat.

"He'll mention it. Maybe make something out of it. Have you decided on him?"

"I'm not sure what to do. I need to talk to Uncle Vinn."

"Oh?"

"And Kili said we should talk to Thorin too."

"What's he got to do with it?"

"He's wise and I trust his judgment." I did. Completely. What had started out as a simple road with a simple fork of stay at Erebor or leave for the Iron Hills had become a twisted path with uncertain turns and more than one dead end.

"My," Kitra said, "you and him have come a long way."

She was right. Thorin thought so too. So very far from where we'd started. The one dwarf I'd felt the most animosity toward had become the one closest to me. Strange how things turned out.

"What gown then?"

"The red velvet one." I added deaf ears to my blind eyes. They were sure the dress had nefarious origins, but I was sure it was a gift from my friends. Either way though I wanted to know. "Have the bruises on my face faded?" I hadn't forgotten that my fall from Summer and battering in the mine might still be visible.

"Not exactly," Kitra said. "They're mostly gone. Just some shading here and there."

"Wonderful."

"You'll look wonderful soon enough, Areen, and I must say that Sky looks mighty spiffy." Otha bathed her and brushed her until her coat felt like silk. Somehow, she sensed something important was afoot and slapped her wagging tail on all of us.

"Easy there, girl. You're master is coming. Do you know that somehow?" Someone rapped on the door, and I took a deep breath. Kitra opened the door and exclaimed at Kili's attire. In return he complimented mine.

"Ah, the lovely red velvet. It suits you, my dear." Kitra and Otha sucked in their breath long and loud, and I swallowed hard. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

* * *

**I wanted to make the long-awaited intro, but I'm snatching bits of time here and there to write, and it's been tough. I have a break in a couple of weeks, and I might be able to do more then, but I wanted to get this out now. Thanks for your votes of confidence new readers! Sorry that I can't get around to thanking everyone personally for your interest and reviews, but you know I would if I could! Please review. I would love to hear from more of you. Feedback encourages creativity! Oh, and I see that some who may have wanted Kili are leaving the story, but I hope most of you will stick it out until the end.**


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